Lima Syndrome
by Neassa
Summary: Sly had been expecting this whole "breaking and entering" thing to go better. That is to say, he hadn't expected to be knocked out with a frying pan and tied to a dinner chair with his own shoelaces. Sequel to Stockholm Syndrome. Set in Sly 3.
1. The One With The Frying Pan

HEY GUYS

GUYS

GUYS

THIS

I'M SO TOTALLY NOT PANICKING, BTW

LET'S GET ON WITH IT!

* * *

**LIMA SYNDROME**

* * *

_The crushing… he couldn't take it anymore… He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think… he couldn't hear anything._

_It was the end, there wasn't a doubt in his mind. He just wished he'd been able to see what had been inside the Vault… whether he would have measured up to his ancestors…_

"_Sly! Hang on!"_

_It was so ridiculous… here at the end everything was stripped away and he saw that he'd been such a coward. His life was flashing before his eyes… and all he could think about was her..._

"_SLY!"_

* * *

Early May might have been his favorite time to be out at night, the way the world still seemed to hum with life long after the sun as gone down; the Earth moving after the long winter and lingering cold spells of early spring.

"Sly?"

It wasn't cold or too warm, the breeze carried both the smell of plants and the smell of a city to him. It was normal, which meant things were about to get interesting.

"You read me, Sly?"

"_Loud and clear, Bentley."_ The raccoon looked down at the house marked by the waypoint through his binocucom. It was virtually indistinguishable from all of the other houses in the neighborhood he overlooked from atop a water tower. _"You sure that's the place?"_

"It's what's listed on her driver's license." The nasal voice came smoothly over the newest version of the earbuds the turtle had designed over the last few weeks. Sly found himself resisting the urge to check over his shoulder for his friend. "Remember, Sly-"

"_I know, I know."_ Sly stowed his binocucom in his leg pouch and leapt easily from his perch, releasing his paraglider and letting it catch the air. _"Don't be pushy, don't give away too much information, I get the concept."_

"Just stick to the plan, Sly." Bentley said irritably, "Though I doubt this plan can really get messed up, it's so simple."

"_That's the spirit." _The raccoon said, steering the glider so he could alight on the sturdy branch of a backyard tree. Then he frowned, _"Bentley, you said both Kaia and her father were out of the house?"_

"Yes, her father's on a mission out of the country and her car isn't here. Why?"

Sly silently descended and approached the back door. _"There's someone inside."_

"… Sly, I know what you're thinking. Don't do it."

"_Why not? The only one allowed to steal from her is me."_

"Don't go in there! Stick to the plan, Sly! We need more information."

"_Come on, Bentley. What's the worst that could happen?"_ Expertly picking the lock on the back door, he slipped inside quietly.

He barely had the time to give the kitchen before him a quick scan before something black moved out of the corner of his eye and white-hot sensation exploded at the back of his head.

* * *

I sighed, running my hand through my hair in exasperation. Note to self: If random girl from your Anthropology class asks if you want to hang out, completely out of the blue, she's using you as a designated driver because she knows you won't drink.

Having pulled into my driveway, I rolled the windows down an inch or so, so my car would air out that alcohol smell, and killed the engine.

Letting my head rest against the steering wheel for a moment or two before opening the heavy door of my truck, I inhaled the cool, damp smell of earth at night. I stepped out and locked the car, clicking the button on my key chain three times in rapid succession.

My house was fairly modest; small, two stories, a flower bed home to easy-to-care-for plants, a lawn mowed by a high schooler down the street.

I shook my head, inputting my garage door code. It was a good thing my dad was in South America, working with Interpol. They'd offered him a position about a month after the whole Cooper fiasco. With a little persuasion on my part, he'd been happy to accept, something I was glad for, considering he'd been a bit… overprotective.

It wasn't that Dad and I didn't get along anymore or anything… it was just that my time with the Cooper gang had changed me so much that it was hard to find common ground now. I'd come to the realization that sometimes it really did take a thief to catch a thief and that when things needed to change you sometimes had to take them into your own hands.

As such, I had remained tight-lipped about the things I'd learned running with the gang. I got away with claiming Stockholm Syndrome, of all things, when questioned about it. I didn't think anything I knew would be of any consequence, really, but I was careful anyway. Heck- I didn't even know where their true Safehouse was, didn't even know which country.

I ran my hand through my hair yet again as the garage door went up. I really needed to either cut it or decide that I was going to let it grow out; it was at a really awkward length, about an inch past my shoulders.

As the rising door cleared my eye-level, I blinked in surprise. The door to the kitchen was cracked open, a slight light shining through the gap.

That was weird. I'd asked my friend Millie to stop by and feed the neighbor's cat, which I was looking after over the weekend, when I realized that I was going to be out rather late. But that was nearly an hour ago. She couldn't just now have gotten here, could she?

My heart pounding away in my chest due to pure adrenaline was at once both nostalgic and nerve-wracking. The garage door was pretty loud, which ruined any element of surprise I might have had, so I hurried over to the kitchen door and swung it open.

It took me a moment to process what I saw but when I did my keys fell from my grip, clattering on the tiles under my feet.

"Millie." The bat jumped and hid the roll of duct tape behind her back, "Why is there a raccoon tied up at my dinner table?"

Said raccoon did not look like a happy camper. His right eyebrow twitched violently above the long strip of duct tape holding his mouth closed. The rest of his limbs were secured to the chair with everything from belts to what looked suspiciously like shoelaces.

Millie smiled her too-innocent smile that made me check to see if my wallet was still in place, "Weeeell, he was sneaking around, so I clocked him in the head with this," to my horror, she hefted a frying pan, "Then I realized who he was, so I decided to ask _him_ about last year since you won't tell anyone anything."

I sighed and resisted the urge to rub the bridge of my nose, an urge I hadn't felt in a while. I reached into my back pocket and retrieved my wallet, opening and flipping through it. Ten, five, five, one, one, one… I delved into my pockets as well, before looking up at Millie again and holding up what I'd found. "$23.42 and this never happened."

She beamed and my hand was suddenly empty. "Pleasure doing business with you! Bye, Cooper!" She waved to the incredulous thief and bounded off to the front door, ponytail bouncing slightly behind her.

I waited until she'd taken off safely into the night before locking the double locks on the door and returning to Sly. "Sorry about that," I knelt in front of him and worked on peeling the tape away from his mouth as painlessly as possible. That is to say- very slowly. "Millie's kind of crazy."

He grumbled something and I beat back a smile. Being this happy to see him again probably wasn't healthy. I heard an odd buzzing noise and it took me a minute to realize it was coming from Sly's ear. I smiled this time, "Bentley's eating you alive in there isn't he?"

"That's an understatement," the raccoon said the instant his lips were free. "You think you can get one of my hands free so I can tell him your dad didn't shoot me or something?"

"Yeah, sure," But when I started working away at five shoelaces of various colors and what appeared to be a power cord, I amended my statement, "Actually, it looks like I might have to go get the hedge clippers out of the garage, Millie can tie a mean knot."

I didn't have to get the clippers, thankfully, though I made a mental note to ask my bat friend if she'd ever known a sailor. As soon as I freed his hand, Sly activated his mic.

"Bentley, I'm alive, I was just a little… tied up." He winked and I gave an exaggerated groan, even as I started working on freeing his other arm, "Yeah, one of Jinx's friend was over… she hit me with a frying pan…" He grimaced, "It's not _that_ funny."

"Yeah it is," Then, as an afterthought, "Tell Bentley I say 'hi'."

"He says 'hi' back… Yeah, Bentley, I know… Yes… Yes… I know… I swear, I'll stick to the plan… Okay, I'll let you know."

"What plan?" I asked, having freed his other arm and a leg and working on the last of the knots, "If you're here to kidnap me again, my Dad's gonna be pissed."

"She says as she continues to untie me."

I shrugged, pulling away the last bit of twine and standing, "Well, I have to admit, college isn't the most fun after gallivanting across all the known universe- ghack!"

Sly had risen fluidly to his feet and pulled me into a bone crushing hug, "It's good to see you again."

"…You too." I said once I recovered, hugging him back, "You too. But seriously, what are you doing here at…" I checked the digital clock on the oven as soon as he let me go, "… two-thirty in the morning. You know what? Screw sleep. You want some coffee?"

* * *

A few minutes later, Sly and I sat in the living room (he absolutely refused to return to the chair he'd been tied to), sipping from mismatched mugs across the coffee table from each other.

"So," I spoke first, after a short while of companionable silence, "Just what is it that you want from me?"

"What, no 'So, how've you been?'?" He smirked at me over the blue rim of his cup.

"I'd think you know me well enough by now to know that I hate small talk." I traced the painted pattern on the ceramic in my hands in an attempt to avoid looking at him.

"Actually," He propped his feet up, "It's not like we ever had a chance for small talk before."

I gave him a mock glare. "Alright, smart-aleck. Quit stalling."

He chuckled a little bit before placing his mug on a coaster and adopting a serious pose. I involuntarily straightened. "I have a proposition for you."

_That_ threw me for a loop, "A… what?"

A smile tugged at his mouth. "A _proposition_."

"And what is this… 'proposition'?" I was wary, I had no idea what to expect.

"We want you to join the gang, for real this time."

It felt like the bottom of the world had just dropped out from under me.

Ever since I got home, I'd been trying to force myself to reconcile the fact that what happened last year wouldn't happen again. No matter how much I'd enjoyed running with the Cooper gang, I'd never get to do it again, so there was no use pining away for it.

Trust Sly to show up and turn everything on its ear just when I thought I'd gotten to the point where I'd be okay. And now that I'd reached the point, I didn't know if I could bring myself to leave my friends, family and home, willingly this time.

"Kaia?"

I shook my head to bring myself back to reality. "Why? I mean, it's not like I don't want to, but…" I put my cup down hurriedly and pressed my fingers to my forehead. I needed to think, "Why do you want me on the team? I mean, yeah, I've read the Thievius Raccoonus, but I'm not even close to your level. What could I possibly do to contribute?"

He grinned and reached across to mess up my hair. "That should be the farthest thing from your mind in this case. If it makes you feel better, Bentley wouldn't have let me come to get you if he didn't think you could have a significant part in the gang."

"But you don't know what it is."

"… No."

I groaned and flopped back on the loveseat, holding a throw pillow to my face. "What brought this on?"

"We're…" I could tell Sly was struggling with just how much information he wanted to give me. "We're going to pull a really big, really important job. We need a team. One bigger than just Bentley, Murray, and me."

And he wanted me to be on that team.

I sat up, clutching the throw pillow to my chest, and took a deep breath. "I want to, Sly. I want to more than I could possibly express, but… This is something I seriously need to think about."

To my surprise, he beamed, "That's good. I wouldn't want you to join up and regret it later. Besides," He stood, walking towards the door, "Bentley set up a challenge for you."

I watched in shocked silence for a moment, then scrambled after him, "Wait- what?"

He grinned and tapped me on the head with his cane, "If you decide you want to join up with us, you have to find me. Your deadline is Thursday."

I gaped at him and he winked.

"Consider it an audition."

* * *

"… Kaia? … Kaia!"

I jerked at the sound of my name, looking across the table. "Eh, yeah, sure."

The mutt across from me drummed his dull nails on the table in annoyance, "I _asked_ how many hours you were taking next semester."

Oops. "Sorry, Roger."

"Seriously, you've been a total space cadet all day." The silver lynx to my right lamented, "You're usually a lot more fun when you're sleep deprived."

I elbowed him swiftly. "I have something on my mind, is that okay with you?" I asked sweetly as he wheezed out something about abuse.

Millie looked up from the lemonade she'd mixed with fruit punch, "Is this about the other night?"

My heart leapt in my chest, "Yes, not that you should be asking. I bought your silence yes?"

She snorted, gesturing to her pasta with a winged arm, "What you bought was my lunch for the week and my silence about the _specifics_. Everyone knows my total silence costs $50."

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "Yes, but all I need to insure your _eternal_ silence is a pillow, some kerosene, a lighter, and a little patience."

"Wait a second," I heard Roger sit up a little straighter, "What happened the other night?"

"Nothing." I muttered.

"This I have to hear." Kurtis had apparently recovered from my assault on his ribs and was also curious. "You usually give us cryptic half answers or lie to us. What, are you keeping an actual secret?"

"Go back into your emo corner and leave me alone."

"Ouch, that was mean." He sulked in his black jacket, hood drawn up with his ears poking out the little holes he'd cut for them.

"Seriously, what happened? Mill?" Roger turned his interrogation to Millie, who sat next to him. Roger was gruff around the edges with no known soft spot, but he was possibly even more protective of his friends than I was, which pretty much made him a juggernaut when it came to making sure they were safe. And Millie had just given him a hint that not all was right in Kaia-Land.

Cunning bat.

"Weeeeeell…" She gave an extra syllable to the word, clicking the top of her fruit punch bottle between her fingers, "Let's just say that our favorite albino received a little visit in the wee hours of the morning; a gentleman caller whom I intercepted."

"I'm _not_ an albino." I snarled at her, "My hair is black!"

Roger ignored me, his brick red eyes narrowing, "What _sort_ of caller?"

"Well, unfortunately, the specifics are a little fuzzy…"

The brindled canine reached for his wallet.

"Millie!" I hissed, feeling adrenaline pump under my skin, "Can it!"

"Well," she flicked her sandy ponytail over one shoulder as she pocketed the Lincoln, "All I can really remember is that he was rather well-known."

"Kurt, don't let her by." Roger said as I started to stand.

I stared right into the ice-blue eyes of my seatmate. "Try to stop me. I dare you."

Kurt immediately stepped aside and gestured for me to pass with a flourish. As I walked away, I heard him say, to Roger's Glare O' Death, "Dude, even you know better than to mess with her when her eyes get all gold."

I slung my backpack onto my back. After all of the mishaps of last year, my old backpack had been barely holding together, so it was retired and replaced with a new one. With a single cross-strap, the new bag rested at a comfortable diagonal angle between my shoulder blades and carried all of the essentials for college. Namely, my wallet, laptop, and a first aid kit.

Books? What books?

I sighed, rubbing at my forehead. I'd been mulling over what to do for the past few days, coming to no definite conclusion. I wanted to be with the gang, but I also wanted to be with my normal friends, even if they were being particularly annoying at the moment.

But even so, it wasn't like I could really blame them, not even Millie. She was my best friend and the fact that I hadn't called her after Sly had left to tell her what had transpired was probably making her really worried. She was just going about getting answers in her own, demented way.

I paced about the campus for a while, before taking to the streets. Getting this offer from the gang was seriously messing with me. After coming home, I'd meant to slip right back into my place there, but I couldn't.

I couldn't go to the FBI offices anymore to bring my dad and his team lunch because every eye on me was bursting with the urge to question me, from natural curiosity to the deep-seated urge of some of the agents I didn't know so well that demanded they drag me into one of the interrogation rooms and not let me out until they had as much knowledge on the Cooper gang as I had. Though I didn't think the facts that Sly had the worst bed-hair, Bentley was allergic to tomatoes, and Murray had the disturbing tendency to eat crayons would help them much.

While I'd had a close group of few friends (Millie included) in high school before I'd left and them only, suddenly I wasn't left alone. Again, curiosity became my bane, I'd disappeared from the face of the earth for two months and then reappeared different, if not wholly changed.

And that was the majority of the problem. People regarded me differently, sure, but how I was starting to regard myself was a whole other headache. Going from living outside the law and being totally free (for all I was a 'hostage') to being in civilization again was not something I thought I'd have trouble with. But suddenly I saw the bad everywhere that I'd been blind to, or maybe just ignored.

I'd been glad for the very first time that my dad was never home anymore when I'd gotten in a brawl with a drunkard smacking his kid around. It was only the agility that I'd learned with the Cooper gang that had kept me alive; though I had to be careful to wear long sleeves on the odd occasion Dad came home for a visit to hide the scars I'd gotten from the tiger's claws. Thin though they were, my dad had a good eye.

But the urge still burned in me to _do_ something about everything going on, and the urge had not faded with time, to my dismay. I could report the little things I saw, of course, but there was only so much good that could do. Crime bosses could get more grunts as easily as they could breathe and they were the ones that needed to be shut down. The gang could cripple the ringleaders and get rich on it, a win-win if there ever was one.

I'd been sitting on the side of a hill in a park, overlooking the street and thinking all this through, when I felt someone nudge me with a booted toe.

I was halfway on my feet, hands up in an instant, before I saw Uncle John, holding two ice cream cones and looking down at me with an eyebrow raised.

I flushed in embarrassment and sat back down. Even now, I'd expected a burly flashlight guard when I was startled. He settled next to me and passed me a vanilla cone without a word. I didn't have to ask what he was doing there; the park I'd wandered to was close to the FBI offices, I'd played at the nearby playground as a kid.

We ate our ice cream in silence until he said, "You're supposed to be in class." It wasn't accusatory in the slightest, just a statement of fact. I felt my face heat in shame anyway.

"I'm having an identity crisis at the moment; it's hard to focus on the methods of counting votes in that mindset." I told him as blandly as I possibly could.

He turned to me then, "And what could cause you so much trouble that it starts you pulling at your hair?"

It was a habit I showcased when especially stressed that had always set my uncle's teeth on edge. He'd liked to tell me when I was smaller and let him get away with it that I was special for having such contrast between my hair and fur, white and black. Most people's hair and fur were the same color, or extremely close, unless they dyed it. He'd said after I came home that it he'd been heartbroken to see it cut so short at Rajan's ball and I didn't have the guts to tell him that I'd ached to cut it again for months.

I nibbled at the cone of my ice cream and weighed my options. I couldn't tell him the truth of course, but he was the only one who had not been disappointed that I'd claimed Stockholm Syndrome and refused to cough up any info on the gang. He was also the one I told about all the things I saw, not even scolding me when it changed from giving leads to venting about what I saw, even though there was no evidence. A kind of sixth-sense I'd picked up with the guys, I could spot a rotten crook quickly, if not prove it.

"I'm having a hesitation of occupational choices." That was true enough.

He frowned, "I thought you were sure you what you wanted to do."

"I am," I scrambled to say, "But…" I crumpled the napkin that until recently held my snack in a hand and drew my knees up, resting my chin on them, "I feel that there's something I should do first. Something important."

He sighed and dropped back to the grass suddenly, not even minding his suit as he folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the clouds, "I know you're restless. You've been restless for ages now. Used to be that when you were upset, you'd play video games, not wander the streets to burn off energy."

'And unwanted thoughts' I tacked onto the end of that statement. I hated exercising for simply the sake of it, but when I had plenty to occupy my mind, I didn't mind so much. Not to mention I felt like a fool just sitting around thinking. I had to have something to do, which was why I used to play video games, mindless ones that didn't require thought. I usually hated them, but had to keep my hands busy somehow.

I didn't answer. I didn't have to. Uncle John knew why I was restless, he didn't blind himself to the fact that I'd probably done some illegal things with the Cooper gang, like my dad had; and that I'd perhaps developed a taste for it (one of the main arguments of those agents who'd wanted to interrogate me sooner than welcome me home), he just didn't care. He knew I wasn't a hardened criminal and that sometimes the long arm of the law only stretched so far.

He just didn't know that this 'identity crisis' stemmed from the same source as my restlessness.

He finally spoke again, "Did you know that your grandparents wanted me to be a lawyer?"

I blinked at him and said 'no'. I certainly hadn't known that. My grandparents had always seemed so proud to have two sons in the bureau.

"They said it'd be a shame to waste my head doing thankless work, that I ought to focus on making sure those who were caught, stayed caught. Your dad was just a city cop then, hadn't even started to work up the ranks and showed no inclination to do so, but that was just to ruffle our father's feathers. They wanted a son they could brag on."

"I went to law school for three years, but it never seemed to click. I started hanging out with your father and his friends after hours and found I could talk better with them than I could with classmates I'd known for years. Maybe it would have been smart to stay in law school, but I can sleep better at night knowing that I'm catching the bad guys and not just waiting for them to be brought to me, the only muscle I ever use being my tongue."

He sat up again and looked me dead in the eye, "All I can really tell you is to do what makes you comfortable in your own skin. You understand Kaia?"

And I did. I realized why I'd felt so out of sorts. I loved my friends and my dad and my uncle, but my life didn't fit with theirs anymore. It was like I was a jigsaw piece that had changed shape and color and now belonged to a new set. Toss it in a different box and it could blend right in, but when the puzzle is put together, it doesn't fit into the big picture.

It felt like I was trying to fit myself into skin that didn't belong to me anymore. An outlaw trying to fit in the skin of a civilian. It was weird to think of myself as someone on the wrong side of the law, but I wasn't the person my dad liked to pretend me to be anymore and I supposed I'd get used to the term.

I'd find Sly and maybe, just maybe, I'd make a little mark on the world, maybe change something for the better. That's all anyone can ever hope for, really.

Uncle John checked his watch again and sighed, hauling himself to his feet, "My lunch break's over. My partner will have my head if I'm out late again."

I stood, feeling so much lighter than I had when I'd sat down, and hugged him tightly, I didn't know when I'd see him next or if I'd be in a pair of handcuffs when I did, "Thanks, Uncle John, for talking to me." Hopefully the next time we meet will also be under happy terms, I added silently to myself as he hugged me back. "I have things to do as well."

Did I ever.

My mind made up and heart lighter than it'd been in a while, I felt near-giddy as I walked to the student parking lot back at campus and hopped into my truck, taking it to another familiar part of the city.

* * *

Okay, first chapter over and done with! I'm breathing, I swear.

Hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts, I crave your reviews!


	2. The One With The Wafflehouse

Okay guys, here's chapter two! There's a lot of technobabble in this chapter that I'm totally making up, so bear in mind that I really don't know what I'm talking about.

In other news, on with the chapter!

* * *

After my talk with Uncle John, I'd gone to the mall, to the salon I'd gone to since I was younger. Going there was the only time I really felt feminine, it was a place where people with a little more money usually went. My mom had gone there even before I'd been born, before she moved south.

I hadn't made an appointment, but from listening to my hairdresser, Gerard, an old coati who'd been working there twice as long as I'd been alive, I knew that Tuesdays were his slow days and he often found himself sitting around bored.

I was lucky and today was one of those Tuesdays. I was able to walk in on a bored Gerard, tossing a Koosh ball up and down as he spun around in his chair enough to make anyone else dizzy. He'd greeted me warmly, for all I dragged his chair to a halt and snatched his ball out of the air, but he was as startled as I'd ever seen him when I asked him to cut my hair short. He was usually just a big kid, albeit a big kid armed with scissors and hair gel.

Still, after he got over the initial shock, he was the same as ever. A veteran hairdresser like him knew how to keep conversation going while their customer was stuck in a chair; he'd even changed to accommodate my short answers with one-sided conversation when I'd returned last year and gotten all funny and nervous at him for being around my head with scissors. It was my shame that two months had made me paranoid, but he bore it better than any of my acquaintances.

Before I left, my hair tickling my jaw-line, I'd stuffed a twenty in his cup of pens when he wasn't looking. I didn't know when I'd be seeing him again either and I had a month's budget in cash that I'd received from my dad the day before, most of which I'd use by day's end.

The reason for this was simple: my audition.

I had to find Sly by the day after tomorrow. It was a challenge that I could meet, Bentley wouldn't have arranged it if it weren't. I figured that this wasn't so much to make my life difficult as it was an actual audition. Whether or not Bentley had a job for me, he'd need proof that I could think like one of the gang, like him, so I got to work.

Before leaving the mall, I made my way to an electronics store, purchasing a set of walkie-talkies, and stopped by another on the way home, walking away with a headset and a set of transmitters that could be stitched into clothing. I didn't even know they sold that sort of thing in stores, but I was glad to see them.

I picked up these things for a few reasons. I'd done only a handful of things alongside the gang and most of them consisted of watching the binocucom station, but I remembered them well. All I had to do was think like Bentley, like I was making a challenge for myself, looking at what he'd know of me, of what I could do, and the answers slid into place.

I took my truck through the carwash and picked up some food on the way home. When I arrived, I parked in the garage, something I generally avoided doing because I was too afraid of navigating what I felt to be a small space in such a long vehicle.

I ran my hand over the faded blue paint of my truck before heading inside; I'd miss the old thing. I ate, took a shower, then spread my purchases on the table and settled in.

A good eighty-five percent of the things I'd gotten into with the Cooper gang involved binocucoms. I knew a lot of their inner workings from watching Bentley work on the prototype he let me use sometimes and I knew a thing or two from the time he taught me how to turn transmitters into bugs. The transmitters spread before me were of a much different model than those implanted in the bear teeth I'd worked with before, but I was able to find enough commonalities that I could work with them.

My plan was to find the coordinates of the waypoint Bentley always dropped on a Safehouse so we could find it even if we were lost. I knew the code for making waypoints in binocucoms, but not if that would help me to find one; and I'd _never_ known the code for Safehouse waypoints, which were different than those for missions. But I had to make do with what I did know.

First, I set to rigging the transmitters. The last time I'd had my hands on such things, I'd been coding them to send _to_ Bentley's work station, not to locate its signals. I hoped that, with some creative thinking, I'd be able to figure out how to reverse the process.

Any hesitations I'd picked up on the way home fell away as I worked. I knew that whatever work Bentley had for me to do, I'd be glad for it, even if it wasn't fieldwork. Just having a goal to work toward, a problem to solve, got me out of a funk I didn't know I'd been in until the tension started easing out of my shoulders as though it had never been.

My hair dried as I worked, wetting the collar of my T-shirt. I'd cut it about as short as remembered it being when Bentley cut it last August, but I'd also had Gerard add layers, thinking it'd be better if it were lighter. What I hadn't thought of, I found when I looked in the mirror after I changed, was that made it far easier for my hair to curl. Where Gerard had straightened it earlier, it now curled as I'd never seen it do, though, thankfully, it stayed near my scalp, where it belonged, instead of gaining volume.

In yet another T-shirt and cargo pants, I returned to my work. It sounds complicated, but it's not really. The transmitters came with software to locate them; screw around with the options enough, tweak a simple code here and there to fiddle input and output, and they'll work however you like.

For that, I hauled out my oldest desktop, a dinosaur of a computer that by all rights shouldn't work anymore. I wouldn't put it past my dad to have my current laptop bugged, it's one of his privileges as an FBI parent and so long as I was careful, it didn't really affect me much.

Even so, I barely touched the desktop, even as I hooked it up and installed the transmitter software, a task that took a half hour where my current computer could have done it in under two minutes. If the computer didn't look like it had been disturbed, it would take longer for it to be checked, if it was at all.

If I'd known a bit more about gadgets I could've programmed a GPS to pick up the waypoints via the transmitters. As it was, I had to use the software from the transmitters to get a location and from there, had to use a good old fashioned paper map.

So I had to have a look at the transmitter software yet again. Or at least I would, once I had a signal to piggyback it off.

My mind tried to run ahead of me with how to _find_ that particular signal, but I reined it back in with difficulty to focus on how to widen the range of the transmitters. If Sly was across the city, it would do me no good to have short range transmitters. I was sure that, with the aid of cell towers, I could get a wide enough range, but it was the issue of how to get the software to talk to me in miles instead of meters that was presenting an issue. These were for families with sleepwalking children or those with mental difficulties that might up and leave in the middle of the night with no notion of the danger, people that couldn't get too far too fast.

Thankfully, my old comp still had a program for writing code from my days in Computer Science, years ago, where I'd learned the skills that let me understand some of what Bentley said. I wrote a simple program to do the calculations for me to five decimals, so I didn't make a mistake getting impatient and trying to do them in my head.

Once I'd loaded that into the computer, I retrieved a map from a desk drawer in my dad's room, returned to my workstation, and sat back, resting my chin on my fingers and letting half-formed thoughts settle at the pressure behind my eyes. I hadn't slept last night, too busy worrying over what I'd do, and now it worked to my advantage. Not sleeping lets a person get easier access to their subconscious and that's where the truly great ideas linger.

Linger and surface when one is so sleep-deprived as to develop an eye-twitch.

I'd purchased the walkie-talkies on a whim, because they could pick up chatter on different channels, but I wasn't sure how that was to help me when I was searching for a channel that could carry video as well as audio. But then, Bentley's signal was always strengthened to blanket the whole city and do so well, so any of the gang on a job could find the Safehouse from anywhere.

When I found a channel that was dead silent, when unused stations were filled with static, I set the transmitters to that channel, rather than their default, and changed the options of the software to pick them up again and find the origin of the signal.

The transmitters took the one seeking straight to them, with no regard for streets or buildings. With more math than I'd had to use in ages and some pretty solid abuse of the Pythagorean Theorem, I was able to take those directions and apply them to the map.

After checking and rechecking my work to make sure I hadn't made an error in the math (far too likely a possibility) I found myself staring at an address across the street from an airport parking lot.

After calling a cab, I stood, went into my room, and packed my backpack. I couldn't take that much with me, but I made sure to take the important things. A photo album, my senior yearbook, my CD case, the external hard-drive that held all my up to date documents and files, things like that. I lifted the mattress from my bed and took the two things that lay there, the necklace Sly gave me and Ahanu's goggles, and they went around my neck.

I didn't dwell on what I was doing too much as I walked from the house to the waiting cab, I'd talk myself out of what I wanted to do, take the path of least resistance. But even so, under the hesitance I felt an excitement building. This was it, what I didn't even know I was waiting for through the past twelve months. Energy hummed in my veins, my bones practically vibrated with it.

I slid in to the cab and gave the driver the address.

* * *

Sly stared.

And stared.

And _stared_…

And then, just for good measure, he stared a little longer.

Kaia passively stared back, drumming her partially-extended claws on the table between them.

He wasn't sure why, but he hadn't actually expected her to come. He'd _wanted_ her to, of course, had hoped she would, but he hadn't expected it. Why would someone with a normal life, someone who hadn't been born and raised into it, leave that life to be a thief?

He found himself smiling as a fist-sized knot of tension resting just under his ribcage relaxed. He hadn't felt this at home with himself since Murray left the gang. "Took you long enough. Nice haircut, by the way."

She gave him a mock-scowl, "Hey, I'm two days earlier than my deadline. I'd say that's an achievement."

He shook his head, still smiling, "How'd you even find me here anyway? This wasn't where you were supposed to meet me."

The green-gold eyes that were usually so sharp leveled a flat stare at him. "Yes, because it's not like this Wafflehouse is next door to the hotel or anything. And it's certainly not like you're in a booth by the window. And it's not like glass is see-through at all."

The raccoon waved off her sarcasm, "Give me a break I haven't had my coffee yet." And he flagged down the waitress.

After he assured Kaia he was paying (or rather, the corrupt politician he'd robbed a couple of days ago out of boredom was), they both ordered copious amounts of food and he called Bentley.

"Hey pal, you'll never guess who's sitting here with me…"

* * *

I gaped at the tickets, "First class?"

Sly grinned at me, "You're adorable. Never flown first class?"

I smacked him upside the head with the tickets, "Can't afford a lot of traveling on FBI pay, Sly. And when you can, you fly coach."

He held up his hands placatingly, "Alright, alright. You make a good case. To be fair, we don't usually fly first class, it draws too much attention, but apparently Bentley felt like splurging, especially since you're a legal adult now. Even if I strolled through the terminal in full thieving gear with you on my arm, the police couldn't do anything about it."

"Except charge you with kidnap, endangerment, assault, attempted murder, grand larceny," I ticked off the charges I could think of on my fingers until Sly grimaced at me. "Love the disguise, by the way. I had no idea you had that many piercings."

He shrugged languidly, pulling a tattered biker jacket on over a torn muscle shirt, "When you have piercings, people tend to remember them rather than your actual face. Bentley talked me into it last May. Ready to go?"

I hefted my backpack as he picked up his suitcase, "Ready as I'll ever be."

The sun had nearly set by the time we walked through the automatic doors into the airport. We both only had carry-ons (how Sly could fit everything he needed into one bag would be something I'd have to ask Bentley), so we went straight to the security checkpoint. Not together, of course. I was using my real passport, so I lingered by some advertisements while Sly walked ahead in his disguise, not moving to follow until there were a few people between me and him.

When I flashed my passport and boarding pass I got a double take from the guard, but he must have been seasoned enough not to mention anything, just gave me a smile and told me to have a nice trip. I was impressed; most people who met me after the national news got a hold of my photograph couldn't keep their mouths shut. If it would have been appropriate to give him a tip, I certainly would have.

After we were through (it was _hilarious_ to see Sly take out all his piercings for the metal detector), I wandered a bit. After locating the gate, I browsed the book and gift stores. Sly went straight to the gate, sat down, and started listening to music. I heard what sounded like 'California Girls' when I walked by once, so I just smirked and continued on my way.

After about fifteen minutes, the plane landed and people started lining up to board. Only then did I think to check my ticket.

"Paris?" I muttered, in vague surprise. That didn't make a lot of sense; that was the first place I'd gone with the Cooper gang and I didn't think the dilapidated old apartment could be their real Safehouse.

"Just at first."

The whisper in my ear almost made me jump, I just barely controlled myself. "Thought we weren't supposed to interact before we got on the plane." I hissed back.

"Hey, all any bystanders will see is a bad boy hitting on a pretty girl."

I thought about jabbing him in the gut with my elbow, but decided that would probably look pretty bad on the security cameras. "Alright then, smart aleck. Where _are_ we going?"

He hesitated briefly. Then, "Bentley… doesn't want you to know until we get there."

That stung. It made total sense that Bentley would be paranoid about me turning them in to the cops, especially with all my talk when I first met them, but it still stung.

Then the line was moving.

* * *

"Jinx, wake up."

My dream was already fading when Sly started to shake my arm, but that didn't stop me from being properly disoriented until I looked out the window and saw the clouds much closer than they usually were.

I wiped the grit from my eyes and sat up straight, unsticking my tongue from the top of my mouth, "How long was I asleep?"

He smiled and handed me the pillow that had been propped against his arm, "About four hours. No wonder either, with what you were reading." He hefted my collector's edition of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_.

I took it and stuck my tongue out at him before stuffing the tome in my backpack. "Sherlock Holmes is _interesting_." But I paused and gave him a quick grin, "Though reading Watson's reports in _Hound of the Baskervilles_ is about as interesting as watching paint dry. Hey, you need to stop smiling so much, get in character, practice scowling- see, that right there? Perfect." Before he could respond, I noticed gravity was pulling in a different direction and asked, "We landing?"

"On approach, yeah." He answered, just as the flight attendant started giving the landing speech in English, then French. "It's about ten am, Paris time."

I groaned, rubbing my head. I was still exhausted, "It feels like closer to two or three in the morning."

He tousled my hair, "No worries, we'll get you some coffee and you'll be right as rain."

"You're awfully perky for being confronted with so much daylight." I grumbled, making sure my bag was secured under my seat and my seat belt was fastened, as well as folding a blanket that certainly hadn't been there when I'd fallen asleep. Come to think of it, the pillow hadn't either. And I'd fallen asleep against the window.

"A benefit of being nocturnal, jet lag doesn't really bother me unless I need to be alert for a job, but that's what coffee's for."

"Oh yeah?" Everything secure, I sat back and favored Sly with a skeptical look, "Ever caffeine crash on a job?"

He leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. "Actually, this one time, in India…"

He told me all about that one time in India when he didn't see the trip wire until we landed, which helped me keep my mind off the landing. I may have gotten better, but a frequent flyer I was not.

After landing and getting off the plane, we were able to leave pretty easily, and not having any baggage to claim certainly helped.

"That is a _far_ step from the van." I said as Sly led the way through the parking lot to a small, white, four door car I didn't know the name of.

He shrugged, popping the trunk so we could stow our bags, "Yeah, Bentley's kind of disturbingly practical. No cherry red sports cars that could draw attention, sorry."

"Yes, because the van was so inconspicuous. It had your calling card emblazoned on the side, remember?" I asked, sliding into the passenger seat. "I'm surprised Murray hasn't put turbo engines on the back of this thing."

About to turn the ignition, Sly paused, "Murray… left the gang. A couple of months after the Clock-La incident."

"_What?_" I jumped, then gripped my head tightly when I banged it against the top of the car. I managed to grit out, through the sound of my companion's poorly-muffled snickers, "You didn't mention that in New York."

He took the key out of the ignition, then looked me in the eye. "Would it have changed your mind?"

I thought about it for nearly a minute, "Probably not. A large part of my joining didn't have to do with you guys particularly, but with some stuff I worked out about myself."

His lips quirked up slightly, "Glad to hear it." Then he turned on the car, revved the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot.

One Starbucks (thank God for international chains) stop later, we were on the road. We barely skimmed the end of the morning rush and headed out of Paris.

"Umm, do I need to be rationing my coffee?" I asked as we started to hit (beautiful) countryside.

Sly actually laughed, "Not unless you plan on chugging it. It'll just take a little over an hour to get there."

I finished my coffee in under ten minutes, then fell back to sleep. I blame the French road signs that I couldn't make out, the picturesque scenery, and the fact that Sly was playing classical music.

I woke for the second time in as many hours to Sly shaking my shoulder. Fortunately, this time I was more alert. "We're here?"

"Yup." Sly looked a bit nervous. I didn't really blame him. No matter how much he trusted me, he was still sticking his neck out. A small part of his thieving instincts had to be expecting Interpol to come charging down the street.

The very… suburban street. I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting, but it wasn't a whitewashed house with green shutters, a red door, and a well-tended garden in front of the porch.

"It's such a pretty house," I said without thinking, stepping out of the car.

A neighbor, an elderly hare, was trimming the hedges next door. She saw Sly (who had switched the biker jacket to an open button-down and removed his piercings) and waved. He waved back and they exchanged a few words before the raccoon got our things from the trunk and headed up to the door. I became convinced this was their true home when I spotted four cameras and a motion detector on the porch alone.

Sly unlocked the door and we entered, he calling, "Bentley! We're here!"

I heard a muffled, "Downstairs!" in response.

I hadn't realized the familiar nasal voice would bring tears to my eyes so easily. I dropped my bag and quickly located the staircase, hurrying down it.

The quick look I'd gotten of the upstairs was a normal house. The basement, however, looked exactly like the Safehouses I'd seen before. Tech gear everywhere, Bentley's domain.

The only thing out of place was the wheelchair lift at the base of the stairs.

I bounded down them and burst into the room, spotting Bentley by an array of computer monitors. Because I'd seen the lift, I was able to hide my reaction, but my heart still shattered when I saw the turtle's stick-thin legs resting limply against the much-too large metal frame of the wheelchair he sat in.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to break things and scream about the injustice of the world, but I couldn't. I couldn't even dwell on it for longer than a moment. Instead, I slapped a smile on my face and nearly ran over to Bentley, dropping to my knees and throwing my arms around him, "Good to see you."

He laughed awkwardly in surprise, "You too." When I pulled back he was blushing, but did look happy. "How've you been?"

"Bored, I'm sure you could teach my professors a thing or two. You?"

"Pretty good, all things considered."

"Ah, yes, speaking of-" I hefted a large wrench from the toolbox at the base of the desk, "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'm going to give Sly blunt force trauma for not telling me about the wheelchair."

Said raccoon screamed 'DO NOT WANT' as I chased him up the stairs.

* * *

Bentley waited patiently, tinkering with an old project, until Kaia trudged back down the stairs, wrench still in hand. He eyed it in amusement, "Judging from the absence of bloodstains, I'm guessing I don't have any head injuries to treat."

She smiled at him, but it was weak and the fur around her eyes was wet. "He's a lot faster than I thought and I never was able to get the climbing bit of the Thievius Raccoonus down. He's on the roof, talking to the old lady next door. From the few bits of French I actually caught, I think she's going to smuggle cookies up there for him somehow."

The turtle laughed slightly and pushed himself away from the table, turning to face the girl, "I'm assuming you're curious as to the job I have for you?"

She tossed the wrench to the side and sat on the floor, like a child expecting story time. He smiled and felt the twinge of affection he'd tried to repress until he knew she was really their friend, her curiosity was refreshing.

"All I ask," he started, "Is that you don't say anything until I'm finished explaining it."

Her eyebrows furrowed, but then her face went blank. "Okay."

"I want you to take my place," When she didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow, he got nervous, but swallowed and pressed on, "Not the plan-making, just the fieldwork. Because of my chair I can't do fieldwork anymore, especially not on this job." He picked at the gloves he had to wear now. "But you've read the Thievius Raccoonus and have a basic knowledge of the sort of things I do, I can teach you the rest." He stopped himself from babbling and stared at his fingers, waiting for the hybrid to say something.

"No."

His head snapped up, "No-?"

"I won't do it." She stood, looking like she was about to start crying. "I won't take your spot."

Bentley felt heat build behind his eyes. He didn't have a temper, usually didn't even get angry, but it had taken swallowing all of his pride to ask her to do this and she was throwing it back in his face. "And why not?" He snapped.

"You can still do fieldwork!" She snapped back, looking like she was going to start getting angry too. "No, let me finish. You've overcome everything for this gang. There were plenty of reasons for you not to go out in the field in the first place, but you did it! You did what you had to even though you were scared, even though you were asthmatic. Yes, this is a bigger deal, but have you even thought about a way to circumvent it? Or did you just accept that because you could no longer walk you had to quit fieldwork?"

He bit his tongue, but let her continue. That was _exactly_ what he had done.

"When have you ever accepted something without checking it out for yourself? I bet you didn't even make that wheelchair lift. If it had been your work, it would only be half the size. Bentley, you're better than that. A _lot_ better. Three of you could fit in that wheelchair, how much hardware is that? This _doesn't_ have to be the end of everything. Use that brain of yours and you can find a way to do everything you could do before, maybe more, maybe better. But…" She looked down and wiped at her eyes a few times, "Whatever you decide, I'm not going to help you short-change yourself. The only one who thinks that wheelchair restricts you is _you_."

He let her go back up the stairs. He felt as though he'd just been slapped.

It wasn't like he hadn't thought any of those things before, but it was all things you told yourself to feel better. It's not your fault, you couldn't have done anything differently, you can still live a full, happy life, you just can't do certain things.

But what Kaia had said… it had been different somehow. She truly meant what she said; she wasn't just saying it to make him feel better. She'd been angry. She honestly thought he could do everything he'd been able to do before… he just had to do it differently.

He pushed himself over to his drafting table. It hadn't seen much use lately. He hadn't designed anything since the hospital. Once the guys had busted him out and he'd told them his prognosis, they'd been devastated. Murray blamed himself and even Sly felt like a failure, for not being able to protect his friend. The only projects he'd worked on since were half-finished ones he already had lying around.

He pulled away the blueprints on the table until he reached blank paper. He picked up a pencil and a ruler and just… stared at it.

Could he do it? Should he even try?

He shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he didn't want to give up either. If there was one thing he had learned running with the gang, it was that he had to go with the flow. Even the most fool-proof plans had fallen apart right under them before. If he hadn't been with the gang, he'd have given up long ago. They, Sly mostly, had showed him that you had to just calmly move to plan B and if there wasn't a plan B (which was rare, Bentley usually had contingency plans through the second half of the alphabet), make one up on the fly.

They didn't usually let him give up… but they blamed themselves. Did they think this chair was just a punishment they all had to bear?

Well, he didn't want it to be. He wasn't going to let his chair define him as a cripple, but as the genius he was.

He felt the smooth paper under his fingers, heard the scratch of his gloves against the table, felt the air conditioner kick in and brush the back of his neck. Only a second ago, he hadn't felt like he was in control of anything but now he felt… anchored.

In three swift, sharp motions, lines appeared on the paper.

* * *

"Aren't you afraid of heights?"

I flinched, but wasn't surprised to find Sly on the branch above mine when I opened my eyes. He was a thief; he was supposed to be able to climb silently, "Yeah, but this tree was too pretty not to climb. Nice view of the sunset too."

He draped himself over the branch bonelessly. "I'm guessing all did not go well with Bentley."

"You guess correctly. He wanted me to take over his fieldwork."

I heard him take in a quick breath, then let it out slowly. "I thought he might. If I'd known for sure… I'm sorry, but I wouldn't have come to get you."

"I don't blame you. I told him no, by the way. Well, I told him a lot more than that, but that's the gist."

"… Thank you."

I was surprised to find, when I looked up, that his eyes were wet, though if I asked, he'd probably attribute it to the fact that he was looking right into the sunset.

"He hasn't been the same, ever since he lost the use of his legs. It's like he just doesn't care anymore. He never blamed us or himself and I really do think he'll get through it, but it's… it's really hard to watch him go through it."

I didn't know what else to do, so I reached up and took his hand, from where it dangled near my face. He looked down at me. "I'm sorry. If I'd known before… I don't know. I want to say I'd have helped, but I don't know if I could. I certainly would have tried."

He smiled, it was sad, but it was genuine, and he squeezed my hand. "Thanks. And I'm sorry you came all the way here only to not have a purpose waiting for you. I want you to stay anyway, though. If all else fails we'll keep you around as a mascot."

I kicked the branch he lay on for that one, but nearly fell out of the tree myself when I heard a muffled, but loud noise that sounded like some sort of explosion. "What was that?"

Sly was suddenly crouched in a perfectly stable position, eyes narrowed, ears pricked forward. "It came from the house… Bentley!"

He leapt, rolled on impact, and was up and running in one fluid movement. My first instinct was to gape, but the pumping adrenaline reminded me of the matter at hand.

I scrambled down the tree as quickly as I could and sprinted the hundred yards to the house. When I broke the tree cover I saw puffs of smoke fading into wisps as they escaped from an open window that led into the basement. I took a deep breath, grabbed the window sill, and swung myself in.

I landed in a space that was mercifully free of any of Bentley's projects, though the impact with the plain cement jarred my ankles.

When I finally managed to get a look at the rest of the basement, I wasn't sure what I was seeing. Sly stood at the entrance to the stairs, looking absolutely dumbfounded at something embedded in the ceiling. Bentley was looking at the contraption (which appeared to be a car battery attached to two large springs) contemplatively and jotting something down on the drafting table to his left.

I coughed lightly and moved away from the smoke's path, "Bentley, what's that?" I asked, pointing to the… thing… in the ceiling.

He jumped, as if just noticing that Sly and I were there, then looked down sheepishly, "I, uh, I thought about what you said and… I thought the first thing I would have to deal with would be how to jump. I'm taller in my chair than I had been standing, but even so, I'd need a way to get altitude if I was doing field work. I thought that maybe I could reinforce the axle and the wheels of the chair and install an industrial spring launcher triggered to a button on the frame… But I had to test the power of the springs first." He adjusted his glasses as part of the ceiling broke off and narrowly missed him, "It looks like I'll have to recalibrate them."

For a second, there was only stunned silence. Then Sly started laughing. He crossed the room and clapped a hand on one of Bentley's scrawny shoulders, "Good to have you back, buddy."

The turtle blinked once, then beamed.

* * *

The good mood was infectious, and it felt, to me at least, like a homecoming.

It was like something shifted right then, for all of us.

That one little thing that just wasn't right in each of our lives slid into place.

Bentley wasn't broken, Sly wasn't alone, and I wasn't lost.

We were all alive, and not only could we get through whatever life might throw at us, we would thrive.

And we would do it together.

* * *

Okay, that got a little serious there. Do not worry, however, for the next chapter shall be full of laughter and shenanigans! Yay, shenanigans!

Please excuse any horrid typos, I'm too tired to do another read-through.


	3. The One With The Credit Card

Alrighty guys, fun chapter now to balance out all the serious and drama! As always, thanks for your crazy amount of support. 37 reviews already? Holy ego-tripping, Batman. If my update schedule weren't set in stone, I'd bribe you with an early update if we get to fifty reviews within the week. Instead, though, I'll just plant the idea in your awesome little brains and see what happens.

On with the chapter!

* * *

"Aha! I found it!"

"Jinx! Give that back!"

"Never!"

Bentley sighed and put down the soldering iron he was using. Pushing up his welding mask, he watched Kaia come dashing into the lab, dodging past the half-dismantled wheelchair lift to dive behind his workstation, peering out as Sly flew in after her.

The turtle turned to look at the girl hiding behind his desk, "I _was_ working, you know."

She grinned at him, completely unabashed, "Yeah, but you're always working. You need some excitement in your life."

"Actually, I could do without it, thanks."

"Bentley," Sly broke in, "She took my cane!"

"Ah," Sure enough, the artifact was clutched in Kaia's hands, "Yes, you'd better give that back."

"Awwww, but why? I mean, it's not like- OW! Since when did this part become a blade?"

"Since two days ago when Bentley decided it needed a little more bite to it." Sly said, impatiently tapping his foot on the floor, "Which is why I've been hiding it since."

"Did you ever think of just saying, 'Hey, Kaia, my cane is now sharp and pointy, you probably shouldn't touch the lethal side'?" The hybrid complained, shaking a white hand that now bore a wide red mark across the palm.

"Of course not, that's ridiculous. I'd never call you by your first name."

Bentley decided it was time to intervene when Kaia bared her teeth, "Alright, you two. Since you're obviously bored, I have a few errands for you to run."

"What sort of errands?" the hybrid asked suspiciously.

"Sly and I talked about this earlier, you need some gear. Gloves and boots and stuff." The thief nodded, "We'd order it from ThiefNet, but they cater to specifics and have absolutely nothing for hybrids."

"Awesome," Kaia said with a scowl. "Because I can be seen buying this stuff."

"It's not like we're going to buy it all in one place," Sly said, swiping his cane back, "Besides, you're going to need a variety of stuff, being auxiliary support."

"And field medic. You're going to need a kit." Bentley eyed Kaia's hand, "Though, you're getting plenty of practice using medical supplies. You should probably stop the bleeding before you head out. You remember where the first aid kit is?"

"Yup. It's not like I've forgotten since last night."

"How do you manage to injure yourself so much, Jinx?"

"Well, when _some_ people fail to inform me of danger, it's a lot easier."

"How about some common sense?"

"How about you take your common sense and…"

Bentley shook his head as the two headed up the stairs and pulled his welding mask back down.

* * *

"Alright," Sly said as we got out of the car, "You need to go find some clothes that are light and easy to move in, but aren't loose. And try to get them in dark or neutral colors that'll blend in."

"Says the raccoon that robs museums in royal blue paraphernalia."

He gave me a mock glare, then pulled out a wallet and handed me a credit card. I gave him an incredulous look as I took it. "Don't get any ideas, that's _just_ for stuff you need."

"Uh-huh, right." My name was on the card! How did he pull that one off?

"I'm going to go find some good gloves and boots. We'll meet at _that_ café in an hour."

I gave him a thumbs up and we headed in separate directions.

* * *

If it would have been socially acceptable, I would have beaten my head against the wall repeatedly.

I never was much of a shopper. I was more of a 'go to Target, grab a few T-shirts, and order jeans that actually fit off the internet' type of person. The reason for this was mostly because of my weird proportions. Nothing that was an outfit fit me! Either the pants would fit me or the top would, there was no 'both, and'.

"What does this even mean?" I hissed to myself, staring at the tag on a pair of yoga pants. Let's just say the sizes in the States and the sizes in Europe did not correlate with one another.

I sighed and dropped my head into my hand. I could figure it out, but people were giving me weird looks. I knew I didn't belong in the fairly nice store, my Target T-shirt, cheap jeans, and tattered Vans were evidence of that. Not to mention racism against hybrids wasn't exactly unheard of. I just didn't want to have to flounder with people watching. Maybe I could order the clothes off of the internet anyway?

I slipped out of the store and made to head towards the café, but a heavy hand on my shoulder stopped me.

I reacted instinctively, twisting out of the hold and leaping back to put some distance between myself and whoever it was, landing with my feet braced and hands up.

Standing there, looking stunned, were a tall tiger and shorter Doberman. They were both wearing suits and would probably have looked severe if not for their surprised expressions.

The tiger recovered first, coughing awkwardly, then reaching inside his jacket, "It's alright, ma'am, we're agents of Interpol." He flashed his badge, "We just want to ask you a few questions."

The badge was legit. I bit the inside of my lip, hard, and shifted my weight into a less hostile pose. "What questions?"

They exchanged looks, and the Doberman spoke up, "What's your business in Paris, Ms. Jenks?"

I fought the urge to scowl and instead looked innocent, "Tourism, why?"

"We were not… notified you would be in the country."

This time I did scowl, "Notified? So far as I know, I'm not a person of interest, why would you be notified?" They exchanged glances. "Oh, so I _am_ a person of interest. Awesome. In what, may I ask?"

The Doberman quickly hurried to do damage control, "You're not a person of interest, exactly, we've just been-"

"Assigned to keep an eye on me," I finished when he broke off, apparently wary of saying too much. "Listen, I know you all mean well, but I'm sure there's a much better use for your time. Just because my dad's a member of Interpol doesn't mean I take precedence. And I swear, if this is because you think I'm in league with the Cooper gang, I'm going to break something." They exchanged glances again, "Oh, so it is. Let me tell you something, I just want to forget all of that ever happened, that's why I'm here, alright? I want to go to the places I went with them and make good memories to overwrite the bad, savvy? Can I go now?"

"Uh… sure."

It was hilarious how off-balance those guys could get when someone else took control of the situation, especially a civilian. It was a tactic I'd learned when some of the agents at the FBI had started to try and 'talk to' (read: interrogate) me.

I hurried away from them as quickly as I could and still appear casual. I rounded a corner of shops and nearly ran smack into Sly.

"Whoa- where's the fire?"

I didn't answer, just seized him by the arm and dragged him into the nearest store. Ducking behind a shelf of glass figurines, I peeked out and saw that the two agents had indeed followed me.

"Who are they?" the thief hissed as they passed in front of the door.

"Interpol," I hissed back, "Dad must have found out I wasn't at home anymore. They can't really do anything to me because I'm eighteen, but they can tail me for a while on suspicion. We have to split up; it'd be way too convenient if they saw me hanging out with a raccoon. Sly? Sly, let go of my face, they are going to catch us if you don't get going."

But he didn't. He caught my eyes and held them. I'd only seen his expression like that once before, in Canada. Like he was trying to figure me out. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but we didn't have the time.

Just as I was about to point that out, he pulled back and pressed something into my hand. "Let us know every time you switch locations so we can keep track of you. We'll figure something out."

"Is this my old cell phone?!"

He pushed me in the direction of the door, "You go first. See you soon."

I took a few steps, then paused and turned, "You are _really_ bipolar sometimes, you know that?"

He just smiled.

* * *

I was so _bored_.

I couldn't shop (I was worried about the credit card being tied back to the gang), I was hungry, I was thirsty, and it was getting hot outside.

And the two agents from before were _still_ following me.

I sighed, shaking my head, and made my way toward the river. Last time I'd been anywhere near the place, I'd just crash landed and broken my arm, but in this case I was hoping only for the cool breeze that it boasted. I fired off an update text to the guys and went looking.

I found a tiny little garden on the edge of the river and leaned against the low stone wall that separated the two.

I propped my chin in my hands and blew some errant bangs out of my face. This was _ridiculous_. I didn't care if it wouldn't fit perfectly; I was going to order my stuff off of ThiefNet.

I heard the sound of soft footsteps on grass a few feet behind me and was mid-turn when I heard a half-familiar voice ask, "Enjoying the view?"

I stared. Like a freaking idiot. And then I shrieked in happiness and lunged, locking my arms around the neck of the obscenely tall vulpine in front of me.

"AHANU!"

He laughed and somehow managed not to be knocked backwards, making me feel as though I'd leapt into a concrete pillar. He dropped his voice to just above a whisper to say, "We heard you could use a little back up."

"'We'?" Then I caught sight of the scrap of black behind the fox I'd latched onto, "Ritsuka!"

"Ahanu, please make her stop touching me."

"Eeeee, you learned to speak English!" My death grip on the cat tightened. There may have been nuzzling.

"Seriously, I think she's rabid."

"You know, you are very rude, Ritsuka."

Ahanu laughed, "Alright, you two, play nice. Though, I must apologize, Kaia. I had him first," He bent down, grabbed the freakishly thin cat's belt, and tossed him lightly over his shoulder, "And I don't share."

"HEY! Come on, that's not _fair_!" I said, chasing Ahanu as he started to stride down the street, past the two Interpol agents, each of whom looked like they'd just been tazed, "SHARING IS CARING!"

"Put me down, you _ginger_!" Ritsuka shrieked in embarrassment, ears a fluorescent red, and pounded on a supremely unaffected Ahanu's back.

Seeing this wasn't working, the cat switched to Czech for all of ten seconds before Ahanu winced and shrugged him off of his shoulder, not putting him down, but holding him so he could look him in the eye instead, "Now, that's just foul."

The nurse responded by kicking him solidly in the ribs.

* * *

Once Ahanu had caught his breath, the three of us headed off to get some lunch (_finally)_.

The fact that they'd been called in by Bentley (more likely than not), was not mentioned other than the fox's initial statement, just in case the agents who were _still_ following us managed to listen in. Which was fine, because we had a blast and I figured that Sly would show up once my tails disappeared and not a second sooner.

After lunch, I was dragged into several stores at high speeds by Ahanu who looked me over once and started pulling stuff off the racks and shelves.

"He likes to buy stuff," Ritsuka explained, flipping through a magazine he'd pulled from some unseen dimension. The subject of our discussion was having a conversation with a saleswoman that I couldn't make out, but, from the intensity of their expressions, I figured they'd soon either resort to blows or run away together, "Don't ask me where he gets all his money from because I do not know."

It did not escape me that all the stuff Ahanu was grabbing was what Sly had told me to get for myself. Unfortunately, I was not able to sneak away before he grabbed me by the back of my shirt, dragged me to a dressing room, locked me in, and started throwing stuff over the door.

This went on until we found an outfit that, to quote Ritsuka 'made me look like I was going to steal something'. We bought that outfit and four more in varying colors, 'for any situation' according to Ahanu.

Unfortunately, we weren't done.

After picking up shoes, boots, and gloves, I actually latched onto a traffic pole and refused to do anymore shopping. Ritsuka tried to convince Ahanu to leave me there, but the fox was more stubborn than either of us had previously believed.

Eventually, we reached the compromise of just getting dinner and going back to the hotel where the two of them were staying to relax for a little while and attempt to talk Ahanu out of doing more shopping later that night.

"Why are you two even in France anyway?" I asked as we sat cross-legged on the floor of their hotel room and fought over the variety of sandwiches and chips that we'd bought.

"Ritsuka lost his job at the hospital in the aftermath of your escape," Ahanu explained, "Interpol didn't think he was important when they saw him on the cameras, but the security guards recognized him and told the hospital authorities. So, since I was getting bored of Prague anyway, I decided to take up a job offer in Scandinavia and dragged him along against his will. We're doing a lap of Europe first, though."

I winced and turned to Ritsuka, "Sorry."

He had a mouthful of a tuna sandwich, so he just said "Worth it," and continued to eat.

I was about to say something else when I was interrupted by Ahanu standing up suddenly after looking at his phone and taking three long strides over to the window. He slid it open, reached through the frame, grabbed something, and pulled.

I choked on my drink when Sly climbed through the window with the fox's help. Ritsuka thumped me on the back, wearing a sadistic little grin.

"Good to see you guys again," Sly said, briefly tightening his grip on Ahanu's wrist.

"You too," The translator said, before adding, "And tell Bentley that it's creepy that he knew we were in town."

Giving a shameless grin, the thief shrugged off the backpack he had on, saying, "Hey, Bentley likes to keep tabs on everyone. Oh, and he also says congratulations."

Ahanu grinned like a madman which prompted Ritsuka to throw a juice bottle at the back of his head.

"Am I missing something?"

"Yes, Jinx. Yes you are." Sly threw the backpack at me. I caught it and raised an eyebrow at him before unzipping it and peering inside.

I groaned, "You have got to be kidding me."

"Ah, but I'm not."

"I'm _not_ going to put this on."

"Hey, it's your fault for being an albino."

"I am _not_ an albino! Why does everyone say that? Do my eyes look red to you?"

"You do realize how stupid a question that is when I know for a fact that you didn't sleep last night, right? Okay, okay," He amended when I lifted the pack above my head and prepared to chuck it at him, "We can stand here and argue about this all night or I can show you The Safehouse."

"But… I've already seen The Safehouse."

"No, you saw the house-house. The Safehouse is located somewhere else entirely."

"… You led me to believe it was The Safehouse on purpose."

"Bentley's idea. He's gotten devious recently."

"As entertaining as this is," Ahanu broke in, "Having an internationally wanted criminal and a person of interest discovered in our hotel room would put a serious damper on this vacation."

"Right. Jinx, go change."

I looked back and forth between Sly and the bag several times, "… fine. But you owe me a new computer! I had to leave mine at home."

"Yes, fine, whatever, now get!"

* * *

"I've always hated this stuff," I grimaced, emerging from the bathroom with a newly blackened coat of fur, "It's just creepy to look so different in the mirror."

"You complain, but it's going to keep the Interpol agents outside from recognizing you."

"…" I took a long, hard look at Sly and blinked slowly. "When did you change? I wasn't in the bathroom that long."

I'd seen Sly in disguise before. Several times. But the person standing in front of me was on a whole other level.

He looked like a European university student. And I mean the stereotype; complete with sweater vest, slacks, and those rectangular wire-rimmed glasses that some girls apparently go nuts for. The hair I'd seen spiked into a punk look just a few days ago was now combed into one of those completely average cuts that no one can really remember.

And somehow, all I could think to say to his smug grin was, "How come you don't have to change colors?"

"Because I want those two agents to realize how hard they failed when they review the security footage." He produced a file from seemingly thin air and handed it to me. It contained information on 'The Doberman' and 'The Tiger', as I'd personally taken to calling them in my head. He gave me the synopsis as I skimmed it. "They just recently partnered up and, until now, have been going after fairly low-level guys. They've never really faced someone of the caliber of our gang yet. They have no idea what they're in for."

Ignoring the butterflies I got when he said 'our gang', I returned the file to him, ignoring Ahanu's "Isn't it illegal to have that?" in favor of asking, "Now what? I'm not rappelling out the window. And what's with this outfit?" It wasn't that I didn't like it; it was just that it was something I wouldn't normally wear. Low-riding jeans, a white tank-top with a black vest over it, some kind of sandals with way too many straps, and a strange hat made of denim that looked suspiciously like some kind of organ were a far cry from my usual, jeans, T-shirt, and worn-out sneakers combo.

Sly's grin never wavered as he quickly packed the clothes from my shopping spree into the backpack, swung it up on one shoulder, and grabbed my hand. "We're going out the front door."

* * *

"If I'm ever on good terms with law enforcement again, I'm telling them to fire those two." I climbed out of the car, the soles of my sandals echoing loudly through the otherwise completely empty parking garage.

"Eh, they're just rookies. They'll be given desk work for a few weeks, this sent back into the world to try again." Sly answered, leading the way to the only visible door and opening it.

"Yeah, I know. They must really be hurting for help if they didn't have enough senior officers to keep an eye on them- … whoa."

What looked like a very normal, if small, office building on the outside was anything but on the inside. It was very open, allowing me to see into several different rooms from the landing on which Sly and I stood. The rooms I saw were a mix of living areas and what looked like a physical therapy room for Bentley. The whole place certainly felt a lot more lived in than the actual house did.

"Sounds like you like it." Bentley observed in amusement, wheeling in from what looked like a game room.

"It's awesome!" I said, trying to get a better look at the kitchen.

"Good." He pointed up one flight of stairs from where I stood on the landing, "Your room is up there."

"I get my own _room_?!"

* * *

Sly could not resist the urge to laugh as Kaia took the stairs two at a time and disappeared into the door at the top.

She'd hardly been in the room five seconds before a high pitched squeal could be heard.

"I bet it's the computer." Bentley ventured.

"I bet it's the paint job." Sly countered.

"How many gigs of RAM does this thing have?"

Bentley smirked while Sly pouted and called up, "More than enough. Get back down here; we have a briefing to start."

She poked her head out, her eyes nearly luminescent against the newly-black fur. "We have a job to pull?"

"Something like that," Bentley conceded vaguely.

"Awesome!" She started to pad down and scowled as Sly vaulted over the railing, landing on the floor below, "Show off."

"Hey, if you think that's showing off, we need to get you in the Hazard Room and do some serious training."

"… Hazard Room?"

"You two can flirt later," Bentley cut them off, wheeling into the next room and ignoring Kaia when she stuck her tongue out at his back, "I need to get you up to speed."

* * *

Hope you enjoyed! Check out the blog for more fanart and character bios, the link is on my profile page. Hope to hear from you!


	4. The One With The Water Bottle

Hey guys! Oi, am I glad to be uploading this chapter. I'm back in school for the semester and let me tell you, it's kicking my butt. Take a semester of electives, they said, it'll be _fun_, they said...

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Finally getting into the actual game, _yay_!

* * *

"So, this big heist is to get back your family's treasure?" I asked as the slideshow clicked off.

"Yup," Sly said, running his hands over his cane, "We're going to need an army of world class thieves. It won't be easy, b-"

"But for your family legacy, it's worth it." Bentley cut him off, hovering over a table of blueprints. "And the first step to building that army is getting Murray back."

"Yup, to Venice!" I punched my fist in the air. When I noticed the odd looks Sly and Bentley were giving me, I smiled sheepishly, "Would you think less of me if I told you I wanted to ride in a gondola and eat gelato?"

Sly shook his head, "Normal girls living in Paris would freak out about the Eiffel tower. _She's _more excited about going to Italy and eating ice cream."

I scowled, "Gelato is _not_ ice cream."

"Alright you two," Bentley said, glancing at his computer. "We're not leaving for a while yet. Sly, why don't you take Kaia downstairs and have her do a round in the Hazard Room? I'll meet you in the control room in a bit."

"Sure."

"What on earth made Murray decide to study Dreamtime in the first place?" I asked as I hurriedly tried to keep up with Sly as he led me downstairs.

"He said something about 'finding his spiritual center' when he left, but we'll hopefully get a chance to ask him soon." He said, pushing open the door once we reached the ground floor.

I followed him into the empty, echoing warehouse. After the briefing, he'd had me change into some of the clothes I'd gotten. Now barefoot, wearing a white tank top and a pair of light grey drawstring yoga pants, I looked around the single room before giving Sly an odd look, "It's empty."

"For now," He said pitching his voice ominously. When I leveled a flat stare at him, he gestured to some colored levers on the wall, "Pull one of the white ones."

Not really worried, I strode over, selected the leftmost white lever (there were two) and pulled.

I jumped and yelped when a large, wooden platform dropped from the ceiling and halted only about ten feet overhead.

Once Sly was done laughing, he leapt up to the platform and stared down at me. There was something malevolent about his expression that made me want to run.

"The Hazard Room is designed to train you to perform your job better in the field. It pushes you to your limits and since you're a newbie," He gave a grin that showed far too many teeth, "You get a spotter."

I swallowed, "I'm guessing that would be you?"

He puffed his chest out, "Well, since you're asking so nicely-"

I bolted for the door.

* * *

Sly and Bentley were brutal trainers. Good guys. Good friends. Good thieves. But the second you set them training someone, they became monsters.

"I ache in places I didn't know it was possible to ache," I whined as the plane started to descend. Sly and I had trained all night long so we'd sleep during the flight and be on a fairly late schedule in Italy. Granted, it wasn't like we were expecting to have to do much other than talk to Murray, but everything was much easier to do at night, especially finding a socially awkward hippo with criminal tendencies. As long as we steered clear of the local mob boss while we were in town, everything should be fine.

"Come on, you're fine." Sly laughed, giving me a light shove so I'd stop leaning on him. "It wasn't _that bad."_

I gave him a flat glare. "You are a bad person and should feel bad about it."

He rolled his eyes at me, even as we touched down. "You can be such a drama queen."

I stuck my tongue out at him and gathered up my carryon.

Bentley had gone ahead earlier in the day to set up the Venetian Safehouse. Sly and I each had a slip of paper with the address and were to split up and take different routes to get there. Neither of us had more than our single bag, so we bypassed the baggage claim entirely. I went first. Sly said I could use the head start.

And suddenly it became a race.

* * *

Bentley almost jumped out of his wheelchair when Kaia flung the door to the Safehouse open and stood panting in the doorway.

"Haha… made it first."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Jinx."

Bentley winced when the backpack made contact with Sly's stomach and the raccoon slid, wheezing, to the floor. "That sounded like it hurt."

"Do you have _bricks_ in there?" Sly coughed out.

The hybrid reached one coal-colored arm into her bag and pulled out a leather-bound book.

"I'm going to _burn _that thing."

"Do it and die."

"Ahem," Brown and lime eyes flicked up at the turtle when he cleared his throat, "As entertaining as this domestic abuse is, shall we get started?"

"Right." Sly's recovery was instantaneous as he stood, ushered Kaia inside, and stepped out into the street, pulling the door shut behind him.

* * *

"Bentley, you are my new favorite person for picking a Safehouse just across the street from gelato shop." I said, peering out the window.

"Just coincidence, I assure you," He said, though he looked pretty pleased with himself. "Oh, here." He held out a white binocucom, "This is yours." I snatched it out of his hands instantly and he turned to the binocucom station, "You can practice using it while Sly's looking for Murray. Speaking of which," he turned on the mic, "Given Murray's criminal past, it seems logical to start our search at the local police station. If he's not already in custody, the cops are sure to have leads on all the crooks in Venice."

I managed to get my binocucom to turn on just as Sly reached his job start waypoint. He pointed his camera at a massive domed building a few blocks away and zoomed in.

"That massive dome marks the Venetian police station." Bentley supplied.

_"Cops around here certainly like to make an impression."_

"It's a losing battle I'm afraid. Don Octavio runs the show in this town. Those are his 'security forces' patrolling the streets, not the cops."

_"Noted. Hmm…"_ Sly's binocucom zoomed in some more, to a small fixture on top of the dome, ___"Looks like I found my way inside."_

"That dome is covered in glazed tile, there's no way you can climb up there!"

_"Come on, pal." _The camera traced a rope to across a canal, ___"There's always a way."_

"Why is it that there's always that _one_ convenient rope or pole that lets you get in to places? You'd think the security team would have spotted it…" I muttered.

* * *

"Oh, not that guy!" I groaned, seeing the purple salamander in the jail cell where we'd hoped to find Murray. "I can only ever understand every third word he says."

_"That's because you don't speak bad slang. It's a good thing."_ Sly said, after cutting a deal to get Dimitri out of jail in exchange for information on Murray's whereabouts.

"Sly, you're going to have to be careful getting that key." Bentley broke in. "Carmelita's office is on the other side of the briefing room, which is full of mercenaries."

"Okay, two questions." I asked, thumbing the mute on the binocucom and addressing only Bentley, "Firstly, why is Carmelita always everywhere we go?"

"We've been pretty quiet for the last year, she probably got reassigned here and it's all coincidental. Listen to the briefing; she's going on about tar being dumped into public waterways. She's probably here as the Interpol interest in that problem."

"Why Interpol?"

"Venice is one of the biggest tourist cities in Europe. The odds that it could be a foreigner or a terrorist group are just as good if not better than the odds of it being an Italian. What was your second question?"

I gestured to the clock, "Who the heck holds a briefing at five in the morning?"

"…" To that, Bentley could only shrug.

* * *

I bounced up and down in my chair while Bentley readied the slideshow.

"What are you so excited about?" Sly asked as he examined a singed spot on his tail where one of Carmelita's shock pistol bolts had gotten a little too close.

"Gelato!" I said, "There's a gelateria just across the street. As soon as it opens, I'm all over that!"

"Not so fast, Kaia." Bentley was quick to crush my hopes and dreams, turning on the projector, "Murray refuses to rejoin the gang until his obligation to his guru is fulfilled. Like it or not, we're going to have to deal with Venice's tar problems in order to, as Murray puts it 'make the black water run pure'."

"How does this prevent me from eating gelato?"

"Octavio's 'security forces' are all over the place. It's just not safe to draw any attention to ourselves before we strike, especially since we know that he is somehow involved, thanks to Inspector Fox's fine detective work. As non-law operatives, however, we'll be able to take a more head-on approach than the police are allowed."

"Okay, let's do this! Get those security forces off of the streets! For justice! … and so Murray can join the team. Also that."

"First, we break into Octavio's opera house. If he's hiding _anything_, we'll find it. We should also keep a close eye on the Don. Some photographic evidence connecting him to the tar might be enough to get the old mobster put away. Meanwhile, I'll monitor local information frequencies. With some luck, we might be able to pick up some quality intel."

* * *

Bentley headed out first to check on some intel he'd picked up, leaving Sly and I fighting over the last piece of pizza.

"You coop me up in here in _Italy, _forbid me from eating any legit Italian pizza or gelato, instead we order _takeout;_ the least you can do is let me have the last slice of pizza!"

"Hey, I'm the thief, I'm the one that goes out and puts my life on the line in order to take down the corrupt underground world, I deserve it!"

Then the binocucom station beeped. Sly and I exchanged looks.

"You get it."

"Hey, no, you're the senior field member, you get it."

"…"

"…"

"No need to worry guys, I got it." Bentley drawled from the speakers. "But seriously, the two of you need to get out here; my sources tell me that Octavio has hired the Blue Viper Gondola Gang to take out Carmelita."

"There are gondola gangs?"

"The Blue Vipers? Those guys are nasty! We've got to get to them before they get to her."

"She's off on her daily patrol; those thugs can't be far behind."

"On our way, just be sure to have one of those police boats hotwired by the time we get there." With that, Sly grabbed me by the wrist and nearly pulled my arm out of its socket, dragging me down the stairs and out the door.

When we arrived at the docks, Bentley met us, "It's all ready to go guys. I'd help you out, but my wheelchair brakes aren't that hardcore, I'd be sliding all over the boat. Trust me, that's the next upgrade I'll work on."

"This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to ride a gondola," I grumbled, climbing in and pulling Ahanu's goggles up and over my eyes.

"You shoot, I'll drive."

* * *

"Good shooting, guys. Err… Kaia, are you okay?"

"Sly drives like a maniac... must have Dramamine." I stumbled onto the pavement gratefully.

Bentley steadied me and turned to Sly, "You _do _realize that by saving Carmelita, we've just made our job in Venice that much harder?"

"Yeah, but what's the fun of stealing if there's nobody to chase you? Besides, she's helped us out in the past."

"And you've got a thing for her."

"… and I've got a thing for her. Look, I'm going to go stash this police boat, it could come in handy. You two stay out of trouble."

"Nah, I'm going to go barf on a guard's shoes just to see what colors his face will turn if I do."

If the glare Sly gave me had a physical form, it would probably have a Russian accent and carry a baseball bat.

* * *

Smugly munching on the last slice of pizza, I looked over Bentley's shoulder as Sly tailed Octavio.

"So, there are just random valves that dispense tar scattered throughout Venice?" I asked, "That seems like a critical design flaw."

Bentley let out a longsuffering sigh, "Once again, your oversimplification of the facts makes me die a little inside."

"… Yay?"

Not too long after, Bentley was about to head out to do something about the Ferris Wheel pumping the tar throughout Venice. I was all hyped up to go with him, but he shot that idea down almost instantaneously.

"Why not?"

"We need someone to keep an eye on the Safehouse." He answered, strapping on his chest armor. When I leveled a flat stare at him, he shrugged, "Okay, you're not trained enough yet for an impromptu mission."

I grumbled until he left the Safehouse, at which time I changed into my gear and grabbed my dinky old iPod nano and a dry erase marker.

* * *

"'The dark side of electrical engineering'?" Sly quoted with a chuckle, "You can be so melodramatic sometimes."

"Please, there's not a melodramatic bone in my body." Bentley pretended not to know what his friend was talking about as they approached the Safehouse door.

"Sure there is," Sly quipped as his friend opened up the Safehouse, "Your _skull."_

"Hardy-har… what the-?"

Sly frowned and peered around his friend to look into the Safehouse. He immediately had to choke back a laugh.

"Wow, she really did a number on this place." He strode into the Safehouse first, picking a slimy pink thing off the top of one of Bentley's monitors, "Where did she even get silly string?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to kill her." Bentley seethed, eyeing the angry face drawn on the binocucom station and praying it was dry erase and not sharpie.

His raccoon friend chuckled and opened the door farther in to the building, "Hey, Jinx!" When no yell decrying the name regaled his ears, he frowned, "You here?"

"She's probably stir crazy," Bentley said, sounding less angry and more amused as he found the drawings of angry water towers that now decorated his workspace. "I wouldn't be surprised if she got out to stretch her legs."

Sly's frown deepened, "What about Octavio's security forces?"

"It's nearly six, the joggers are going to hit the streets any second if they haven't already, she won't even garner a passing glance. All of which I'm sure she thought of before she left." Seeing his friend's agitated expression, Bentley sighed, "But you might want to go check up on her anyway."

Sly was out the door almost instantaneously. Bentley shook his head at his friend's enthusiasm. He understood that Kaia wasn't a professional and that worried the raccoon, but she wasn't an idiot either and would likely be at least a bit irritated when she discovered he set off after her.

* * *

I'd never truly experienced the freedom of a rooftop run, excursions on Sly's back in Prague aside, and found I was surprised at how much I was enjoying myself.

The thin climber's shoes I wore let me feel every crack and niche in the walls and roofs I scaled while still protecting me from any protruding nails or splinters. The sport tank top was a slate grey that blended in with practically everything and the yoga pants of a similar shade, held up by a tightly knotted drawstring, kept me warm in the pre-dawn chill that came off the canals while simultaneously keeping me from overheating in the warmth of exertion.

I had several reasons for my excursion. First, cabin fever. Second, I wanted to try out the clothes I'd be wearing in any jobs I pulled. Third, I wanted to get the lay of the land for however long we'd be here. Fourth, I wanted to practice the little training I'd managed to get before being hustled off to Venice.

Currently, the only thing I really could do easily was climb. I had a rudimentary knowledge of running on wires and the Ninja Spire jump, but that was it. I was practicing the running on wires bit on this particular run as I was better at it, but I preferred to wait to practice the Spire jump until my 'spotter' was present.

I stopped to catch my breath at a small courtyard a few streets from the police station. It boasted only a flower bed, the odd bench, and a simple fountain, but it was quiet and just off the river.

I sat down on the low stone fence and worked to catch my breath, berating myself for not thinking to bring water.

"Think fast."

I just barely managed to snap my head and hand up fast enough to catch the water bottle that had been chucked at me. I blinked stupidly at it for a second, then tilted my head to see the person who'd thrown it.

Standing there, holding his own half-empty water bottle, was a cougar. He was tall, moderately muscled, and dressed for running. He had an amused, half-impressed expression and nodded when our eyes met, his right on the joint of green and blue, "Nice catch." His voice had the barest hint of an accent I couldn't place.

I blinked in surprise and replied automatically, "Nice throw." His lips quirked and he came to sit next to me. To satisfy my paranoia, I ran a nail between the screw-top of the bottle and the ring that connected it to the neck. Seeing that they were still attached, I gave in to my thirst and, muttering some expression of thanks, opened it up and partook of the cool water within.

We sat in silence for a few moments before he gave me a sidelong glance, "I'm impressed, most people your age won't be awake for another eight hours still, let alone out getting exercise." This comment wasn't really that weird, considering he looked to be at least in his late twenties, probably ten years my senior.

I waved my hand dismissively, "Usually I'm one of them. You can blame this on jet lag, coupled with my usual insomnia." As an afterthought, I lifted the half-empty bottle in my hand, "Hence the fact that I forgot to bring my own water. Thanks."

He stood with a nod and a thin smile, "No problem. See you around." He was off again and out of sight in moments.

I was left pondering this strange encounter for less than a minute before Sly materialized. I blinked stupidly at him for a second, then rolled my eyes, "You realize that I'm capable of not getting myself shot, right?"

He shrugged, wearing his most innocent expression, "Hey can you blame me for wondering? Need I list all the injuries you've gathered in the short time we've known each other? The head trauma alone will take most of the morning."

I grimaced and gestured to the recently-vacated the spot next to me, silently conceding the point. He came over and sat. Staring at the fountain, I missed the way his eyes narrowed when he asked, "Hey, where'd you get the water?"

I blinked again, my cognitive abilities slowed by the exercise, apparently. I lifted the plastic bottle. "Some guy gave it to me when he saw I didn't have any. Don't worry," I cut him off when he opened his mouth, "I checked to make sure it hadn't been opened before I drank any of it. I learned that the hard way," I gave him a pointed look. "It tasted fine anyway. Besides," I wiggled the bottle at eye-level, "Who'd wanna poison me?"

He shook his head, "Didn't your dad ever teach you not to take things from strangers?"

"Nah, he was too busy teaching me to break kneecaps." I stood before he could ask whether I was serious or not. "Race you back, streets only!" And I took off.

* * *

"Come on, you should have known you couldn't beat me," Sly teased, leaning against the Safehouse as I ran up, out of breath.

"Yeah, but I was hoping the head start and limitations would help me at least a bit." I grumbled between pants, heading up the stairs after Sly opened up the door for me with no lack of flair. At the top, I bit back a snicker at the sight of my handiwork.

"Yes, yes, very funny," Bentley said, eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop, which he'd cleaned off easily, though for some reason saw fit to leave the silly string and the angry water towers. "We'll see if you think the same next time we head into the Hazard Room."

The laugh that had been building in the back of my throat dissipated into a heartfelt groan.

"Alright, ready to go, Sly?" Bentley pulled back from the desk, wheeling towards the door.

"Wait a sec, you guys aren't leaving me here alone _again?"_

"Kaia," Sly's expression was understanding and placating. "We're going to infiltrate Octavio's opera house. Taking you in there would be like tossing you into a pit lined with bubble wrap and sleeping lions and telling you to step lightly. We'll be taking you along soon enough; you just have to learn some more first."

I grumbled, but acknowledged the sense in his statement by turning back to the table of blueprints sullenly, "Fine, but I won't be held responsible for the state of this place when you get back."

"You're welcome to come along via the binocucom station," called Bentley from the foot of the stairs as he and Sly headed out.

* * *

I did watch via the binocucom station, but only after taking a shower to cool off and get rid of that lingering feel of drying sweat.

"Okay, guys, I'm here." I said, pulling on my headset.

_"Welcome to the party, Jinx."_

"Seriously, Sly? I know you know my name, you used it not an hour ago."

_"Did I? Must have been a slip of the tongue."_

I twitched violently, but took a look at what I saw via Bentley's binocucom camera. It was hardwired into his wheelchair and always on when he left the Safehouse. Sly's binocucom was tucked away in his leg pouch.

"Are you on a dock?"

"I am." Bentley answered, "Sly's making a bridge."

Even before he'd finished his sentence boxes and the odd boat drifted into a path to a door on the next wall, where Sly had evidently dispatched a guard moments before.

"Thanks for the assist, pal." Bentley said, jumping across the boxes, "Perhaps I can return the favor with a few well-placed explosives."

I barely had to time to realize the bomb had been placed and whip the headset away from my ears before the explosive went off. That certainly would have banished the clouds of drowsiness that had begun to gather in my skull.

I placed it back on just in time to watch Sly's tail disappear into a ventilation duct. "Why the halt, Bentley?"

"Four inch thick Plexiglas." He showed me, "Sly's looking for a way to get the doors open."

_"And I think I just found it."_

Through the fog of three layers of Plexiglas, Bentley and I watched as Sly fought the guard and cleared the way for Bentley, who used the universal skeleton key of C4 to open up the next door.

Sly headed down the next flight of stairs first. I heard several thuds and held my breath until he called Bentley down as well.

"Are you alright, Sly?"

_"Fine, but you may get to practice your first aid skills soon; those cats have a mean high kick."_ Through Bentley's binocucom, I saw the raccoon rubbing his jaw.

"You okay, pal?"

_"Fine, let's just get this door open."_

They did and Bentley nearly had a fit of glee over the old computer in the center of what appeared to be a conference room.

_"Just as long as you're enjoying yourself, that's the important thing."_

"Aside from a few tense moments, that break-in seemed to go pretty well."

I couldn't _not_ chip in at the sound of that. "You're in the heart of the mob's home base. No time to get comfortable."

_"Jinx is right, this isn't over yet. Get the info we need and let's get out of here."_

"Oh, it'll be a snap extracting the details on Octavio's operation from this old dinosaur."

And it was, right up until the alarm went off.

_"Jinx, I blame you for that."_ Sly grumbled as the guards started to pour into the room.

* * *

Alrighty, that's a wrap! I'm off to catch a couple of hours of sleep before my hour-long commute at 6AM, what fun! Hope you enjoyed and let me know what you thought!


	5. The One With The Fireworks

Howdy, guys! Oh man, time flies when school is causing you emotional trauma, doesn't it? You know every single time I write one of these things there's something I mean to mention but I can't quite remember what...

Alrighty this chapter mixes the serious of the first few with the lightheartedness of the last few, a mixture I'm not sure if it works well or not, so you'll have to let me know, okay?

On with the chapter!

* * *

"You can't really blame me for this," I finally countered half an hour later as I carefully cleaned a laceration on Sly's upper arm with a cotton ball. "In fact, can we start calling Bentley 'Jinx' now?"

"Not a chance," Sly drawled around the stale pizza crust he had clenched in his teeth, "I'm just going with the idea that your bad luck is not affected by distance." He winced as I slapped a gauze pad on his arm and started to wrap it.

"That shirt is ruined," I said, looking at the poor thing, which had been discarded on the floor as soon as I'd fetched the first aid kit. It had taken great effort to just sit down and start working on the new injuries and not comment on the multitude of scars that decorated Sly's bare torso, particularly the large one on his right shoulder, "You have more?"

"Of course, they're cheap and I have no idea how to sew. I have dozens because of this sort of thing."

"I'm sorry, I should have been more careful," Bentley looked sheepishly up from his laptop.

"Don't worry about it, buddy."

"Your overconfidence is your weakness- OW!" I rubbed at the spot where Sly had elbowed me and glared. "You realize that I'm in control of just how much alcohol is used to clean these cuts, right?"

He gave me the most pitiful look he could muster.

"Alright, you guys," Bentley called our attention to the familiar projector and folding table, "So, according to these decrypted files; Octavio is pumping tar from underneath the foundation of buildings so he can sink them on a whim! He's going-"

"Please explain to me how that works."

"Quiet- He's going to demonstrate this destructive ability to the people of Venice during his opera recital on the first day of _Carnivale_. To-"

"That's kind of sad."

"Indeed- to counter this threat, we'll first destroy the balloons and signs advertising the recital. If no one shows up, he'll have no reason to sink a building."

"Well, what if he gets mad and-"

"Kaia, are you aware of how much super glue I have in my possession?"

I shut up.

"Thank you. Next, the blueprints to the main tar vacuum have been cleverly split and hidden in local coffee houses owned by Octavio. Unfortunately, they're under constant guard, so you'll need to use a disguise to get us inside. Also, some big Vincenetti goons have been called in as 'insurance' for the recital. Given their size, I think it's prudent to trick Carmelita's ape mercenaries into taking them out for us."

"If only she knew how much she'd unwittingly helped you guys over the years."

Bentley let that comment slide, thankfully, "And finally, we'll have to convince Murray to take to the field. If he's learned the Aboriginal 'ball form', it'll be just the thing for destroying the local tar reservoirs."

"But not right now." I said, looking over at Sly and wondering if he'd managed to fall asleep with his eyes open.

"But not right now," Bentley agreed, peeking outside and seeing the rapidly rising sun. "It'll be better to attempt this in the evening. So get some sleep and we'll rendezvous back here in ten hours to divide up the jobs."

* * *

Having to sleep on a couch is bad enough. It's even worse if a nightmare causes you to flail and you fall off of said couch.

I grimaced in consternation at the far-from smooth wooden surface that covered the first floor of the Safehouse and could only hope I hadn't gotten any splinters.

Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I looked around and, seeing that the light coming in from the gaps of the boards that covered the windows was slightly orange, decided that it was close enough to time to get up anyway.

Getting to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair and gingerly stepped over Sly, even though I was pretty sure he wouldn't wake up if Carmelita kicked the door in with a battalion of ape mercenaries and a fanfare of trumpets to announce her arrival.

I went upstairs, unsurprised to find Bentley already up.

"Don't you ever sleep?" I asked rhetorically, yawning heavily, "What time is it?"

"Five," He said, not looking up from his maps, even as he lobbed a small object towards me.

I caught the can of soda gratefully and sat out of the way, smothering another yawn and popping the tab on the can after a few seconds. "What are you up to?" Blessed caffeine…

"Trying to figure out the optimum ways to tackle our set of objectives. Congratulations, you get to hit the field this time."

I beamed and did a mini-fist pump, "Yessss…"

"So, why are you up? I thought we'd have to pry you from the couch by force."

I frowned in thought, then answered his question with one of my own, "That scar on Sly's shoulder is from Clockwerk, right?"

He looked at me in slight surprise, "How did you know that?"

"Lucky guess."

"… So you had a nightmare?"

"… Not really, more of a bad dream."

"And the difference is…?"

I laughed slightly, "Nightmares freak you out. Bad dreams are just dreams about bad things. I woke up because I was surprised, not because I was scared." That was stretching the truth to a fine line but he didn't have to know that.

"So, what did you dream about?"

I frowned again, focusing on the little bit I could remember, "I think it was about Clockwerk. I know there was metal and copious amounts of blood. Don't know why I dreamed about it, I never have before."

Bentley finally looked up. "But it didn't scare you?"

"No. Clockwerk is dead. I watched all of the parts age and crumble and I saw the hate chip destroyed. No reason to be scared of the past, right?"

He smiled, "Right. All the same, it would probably be best if you didn't-"

"-Tell Sly." I finished with him, "Yeah, I know."

"Speaking of whom, you want to go wake him up? It's about time to get started."

I grinned evilly, "Sure, do you have a water gun I can borrow?"

* * *

Bentley waited patiently until he heard a crash, smirking.

"Mwaha, you should have seen the look on your face! Wait- no- back, foul beast! How can you move that fast when you first wake up? No- back!"

A few moments of shrieking laughter and pleas for mercy later, Sly lurched unsteadily up the stairs, one arm locked skillfully around the neck of a struggling Kaia. The look he gave Bentley was nothing short of an indictment as he raised one eyebrow and lifted a bright yellow water pistol into view as though it was diseased.

"You knew this would happen, you traitor." Kaia accused, trying to struggle out of Sly's hold.

The turtle smirked, "I thought it would be a good learning experience. Take a seat you two. Sly, your coffee is over there."

"Do you seriously need the whole pot? Okay, fine, just quit glaring at me."

"Alright, first Sly and I will fan the flames of discontent between the mercenaries and the Vincenetti goons. That'll be an easy enough job for you to wake up, Sly; we won't be doing much but watching the carnage. After that, Kaia, you'll meet me here," He reached out and pointed to a small fireworks stand where the river and a canal met. "And get a bit of training in demolitions. Also," He rummaged a bit through a pile of gadgets before retrieving a long, thin cylinder of metal and a length of nylon, "Since it's your first field mission where it's possible you could get into trouble, you need a means of defending yourself. I assume you know how to use one of these?"

She beamed, taking the baton and extending it with a flick of her wrist, "Sweet. These can do a lot of damage."

"Just for self-defense," Sly said firmly, looking on in something like resignation.

She just smiled and gave him a salute.

* * *

I tugged on my fingerless gloves and checked over my outfit. I still had a workout tank top, pale blue this time and darker pants. My thin climbers' shoes had been traded for tennis shoes and a small backpack containing a first-aid kit and a set of lock-picks I didn't know how to use yet.

My binocucom was in a pouch clipped to the back of my pants and my holster hung next to it. I'd never understood why people strapped their weapons to the opposite hip; to me it felt awkward to reach for it that way. But then again, I had weird shoulders in proportion to my body, so that was probably why it was just easier to strap it above and to the right of my tail.

I checked the watch on my wrist, another gadget of Bentley's that automatically synced with his and Sly's, and determined that it was time to head out.

I tugged at the straps of my mini-backpack one last time to make sure I had enough slack to move around, but not so much that it would be sliding around, then headed downstairs.

Unlike my last excursion, I had to walk to avoid suspicion. The day was warm and humid, but the breeze coming off the canals was cool as I made my way along the sidewalk, ducking and weaving out of side streets and alleys to avoid Octavio's guards.

I approached the fireworks stand from the side and rapped on the door with the back of my hand.

"Uh, we're closed! Come back later."

I rolled my eyes, "Bentley, it's me."

There was a brief pause, then a click as the door unlocked, "Come in, quick!"

I slipped inside and looked around with a grin, locking the door behind me, "Well, this looks like fun." Shelves and shelves of explosives lined the back wall and even more shelves lay under a waist-high counter. Bentley was hovering leaning over a device on the counter, connecting some impressive looking wires.

"Could you do me a favor and find the fuses? There should be a roll around here somewhere."

After searching through a bunch of boxes and accidentally inhaling a truly impressive amount of gunpowder, I frowned at the small spool in my hand.

"Uh, Bentley? This is all I could find."

He also frowned when he saw it, "Did you look everywhere?"

"Yeah, this must have been all that was left at the end of the day."

He sighed, "Well, it'll have to do. Come over here."

He showed me the device he'd put together to destroy the anchors of the advertisement balloons and fixed the fuse to it. Just as he finished, a series of three knocks came from the cover on the opposite side of the counter. Bentley opened it instantly and started talking to Sly as I delved into the shelves under the counter in search of more fuses.

"I've taken over this Carnivale fireworks stand as the base of operations for our next job. We need to take out the sign and balloons advertising Octavio's big comeback opera recital."

"I hear ya, if know one shows up for him to extort with his 'building sinking' scheme, then why would he bother with the demonstration? Excavating all that tar seems like a big operation, you'd think he'd hold off until he had an audience."

"Exactly."

"Unless he's prone to temper tantrums." I called, hacking up dust as I came up for air, "Seriously, don't the people who own this stall ever clean?"

Sly smirked while Bentley continued, "Now, I've cobbled together a few explosives powerful enough to destroy the anchors to those balloons. Unfortunately, I'm a little short on fuses."

"Then… I'll be quick." Sly said, tucking the lit package under his arm and taking off at a sprint.

Bentley spoke into the binocucom as Sly disappeared across a bridge, "Be sure to plant the dynamite as soon as you reach the device or – KABOOM – raccoon parts everywhere."

"That's a charming mental image." I said, drawing myself up, "There's really no more fuses, I've looked everywhere."

"Don't worry about it," the turtle said, tapping the tips of his fingers together in thought, "I've got a plan to take out the last two advertisements with one bomb."

Before I could ask how he planned to manage that, Sly ran up panting, "That explosive had some kick!"

"It was a _child_ compared to this ferocious beast!" Bentley sounded positively gleeful, "Don't dilly-dally with this one. It's got a longer fuse, but you've got father to run."

"'Ferocious beast'?"

"Run, Sly, run! Fear the beast!" Bentley said, chucking the TNT like a football as Sly took off running.

"Did you use the rest of the fuses on that?" I yelped when I saw the empty spool.

"Yeah, see?" He asked, pointing at the sound of a large explosion, "Behold stage two, the balloon, carried by the wind, will impact on the Octavio sign. The explosive gases in the balloon will ignite and BAM! Hindenburg part two!"

And yet, it didn't go exactly to plan. Shocking.

"Drat and curses! The wind died. The balloon's caught. Sorry, pal. See if you can climb up there and knock the balloon free. I'll start putting together another explosive."

"With what fuses?"

"I might have to send you back to the Safehouse to get some. Such a shame. I was really looking forward to seeing that balloon burn. Fascinating chemical reaction."

"Uh-huh, you're just secretly a pyromaniac, aren't you?" I asked, unlocking the door and turning the knob.

"Hang on, it looks like- Whoa. Looks like we've got another ferocious beast on this operation!" I looked past Bentley and saw the Octavio sign in flames. How did Sly pull that off? "Come on back and- what?" I jumped when something started pulling on the door I still held the knob of. Bentley rolled over, "Sorry sir, we're currently close-" A huge hand came through the door and clamped onto his wheelchair, "Hey! Let go of me!"

I had my baton out quickly and smacked at the intruder's arm as hard as I could left handed, which, with the not inconsiderable weight of the baton, was pretty dang hard. It retracted immediately and I threw my weight against the door, locking it. "Sly!" I called, hoping Bentley's mic was still on as the turtle in question closed the window as fast as he could, "Get back here, quick!"

My earbud crackled to life, _"I'm on my way, just hang on!"_

If he said anything else, it was drowned out by the heavy impact on the side door. "Hurry, Sly!" Bentley yelped out, "This guy is crazy! We've got him locked out, but-Oh no!" The door shook on its frame and I backed up, pushing Bentley as far from the door as possible and standing in front of him with my baton out. It wasn't like it would do much good in the close quarters, but I had to do something.

When the door started to split, I set my jaw and planted my feet and Bentley turned back to his binocucom, "Sly- he's breaking down the door, where are you? Please help!"

In an explosion of sawdust and splinters, the door flew open. I leapt, hoping to get a good hit in the split second before the giant figure in the doorway could focus on where everything was in the shop.

I drove my elbow into his gut and was bringing my baton up when something hit me with all the force of a semi. I went flying against the far wall and saw stars.

The world went quiet.

* * *

I struggled back to consciousness with difficulty. My head pounded and my eyes didn't seem to want to focus once I'd succeeded in pulling the lids apart.

I'd just barely managed to prop myself up my elbows when I heard footsteps running in the direction of the stand where I lay in the midst of the shattered wood of the door, the shelves that had been on the wall, and gunpowder.

The sound of the approaching steps had me panicking, so I dragged myself over to a wall and got my back to it, holding tightly to the baton I'd found along the way.

My eyes slipped in and out of focus, but I involuntarily relaxed when I saw the figure in the door was mostly blue, "What took you so long?" Wow, my voice sounded like I'd taken to drinking sand.

Sly came over hurriedly, kneeling in the multicolored powders at my side and reaching out gingerly, "You okay? Where are you hurt?"

"Where's Bentley?" I asked as his hand slid behind my neck in support. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine; he's on his way to the Safehouse. You hit your head, right? Let me see."

His voice was mercifully soft and my head flopped forward in response. I felt his fingers running through my hair gently in search of blood and felt obligated to mumble, "I'm fine."

He actually laughed, "You liar." He sounded relieved and amused; his fingers continuing to probe around until they found the site of impact. "Well, it didn't break the skin, but you've got quite an impressive bump. We're talking Guinness World Record breaking."

"I'm rich, I'm rich!" I mock cheered. I waited until Sly was laughing again before asking, "Who was that guy anyway?"

"You got into a scrape with the man himself. It was Octavio. On that note, what on Earth were you thinking? He's four times your size."

"Well, mostly I was thinking 'Oh crap, oh crap, he's breaking down the door. Oh crap, oh crap, where's Sly? Oh crap, oh crap, protect the cripple. Oh crap, oh crap.'" I managed to dredge up a small smile at Sly's grimace and asked, "That was Octavio? He's got one heck of a right hook."

"He _hit_ you? I thought he just shoved you out of the way and you hit your head!"

"Nope, he knocked me clear across the room. That impressive bump came from the far wall. Or one of the shelves, I can't really remember." My eyes finally decided to focus when Sly started growling and I caught sight of my left arm, "Oh, hey. Blood."

Sly's unoccupied hand immediately came around and curled under my wrist, lifting it so he could inspect the damage. He hissed, whether in sympathy or rage I couldn't tell, "Ouch."

"I actually just now felt it." Ouch was an understatement.

"You have a first aid kit, right?"

"Yeah, in my backpack." I shrugged it off with his help and a pad and few strips of gauze later, he'd constructed a temporary bandage.

"We've got to go back to the Safehouse and wash the dye powder out of your fur before we can clean that properly," He explained, getting his feet under him, "Can you walk?" He asked, hooking a hand under my elbow.

"Of course." My voice was confident, but I was more than a little wobbly once I got to my feet, not in the least because my head was protesting violently. Thankfully, Sly didn't let go of me, even once we started walking. After a few minutes, the words came without my conscious permission, "I'm sorry."

He actually did a double take, "What for?"

"Octavio must have followed me to the fireworks stand. I should have been more careful not to be followed."

"Don't be stupid." Sly's voice was surprisingly firm, "If he'd followed you, he could have gotten in when you did, before I even got there. He mentioned an inside man in the police, he could have insiders anywhere. It's far more likely that one of them saw me running one of the bombs from the fireworks stand and tipped him off."

I couldn't really think of anything to say to that, so instead I asked, "He has an insider in the police?"

"Yeah, they intercepted the pictures we sent to the police of Octavio being behind the tar. That must be why Carmelita hired mercenaries instead of trusting the locals."

"Makes sense. Oh, thank God, salvation is near." I said as we reached the Safehouse. Sly got the door open and I lurched unsteadily up the stairs and into the main room.

"Kaia!" Bentley wheeled over as fast as his skinny arms could take him, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about!" I gave him my best 'I'm-totally-peachy' grin. "What about you, are you hurt?"

"My ego's bruised, but it'll heal." He drawled dryly, giving a small smile.

Sly came up after bolting the door and immediately set about undermining my attempt to brush off the encounter. "She hit her head pretty hard and she's got some cuts where Octavio's claws got her. Figured we needed to get the dye out of her fur before we could clean them properly."

"_Thanks_, Sly."

"You figured right. It's the third day since she put it on, a hot shower should do it."

"Great. Shower through here?" I ducked inside the bathroom and slammed and locked the door behind me.

"Kaia! Get back out here; I need to check you for a concussion!"

"No! I'll come out once I get out the dye and gunpowder. And I think there's copper flakes in here too." I said, looking over the funny colored glints in my fur. "I'll be out in a bit!"

* * *

Bentley sighed, sitting back in his chair and turning to his friend, "What do you think?"

The raccoon sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. "It's hard to say. She was coherent by the time I got there, but I don't know if she was knocked out or just knocked for a loop. I don't think she has a concussion because her speech is fine and she didn't seem to get dizzy on the way to the Safehouse, but those cuts on her arm do not look good."

The turtle nodded, "I agree. I think we should keep an eye on her through the night and arrange for her to be woken up every few hours, just in case. But, Sly," Here Bentley looked away, finding a miniscule chip in the wood of the table very fascinating, "She winded him and I think fractured something in his arm. And I couldn't do anything. I just panicked; I should have tried to hit him with one of my darts or _something_."

"Hey, don't worry about it, buddy." Sly said, "Everyone panics sometimes. What's important is that you know what it feels like and fight it off next time, right?"

Bentley took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out, "Right, thanks."

Not long after, Bentley headed out to go talk to Murray about taking out the tar reservoirs and Sly started to read the Thievius Raccoonus for the nth time.

It was silent until Kaia called out from behind the bathroom door, "Uh, guys?"

* * *

…

Well, _crap_.

Note to self, in future; think it through before locking yourself in the bathroom.

"Uh, guys?" I called, holding the towel tightly around myself and listening intently for a reply.

"Something wrong, Jinx?"

I fought the urge to beat my head against the door. Somehow this would have been less awkward if Bentley had answered, "Could you do me a favor?"

I heard him get up and walk in the direction of the bathroom, "What's up?"

"Could you go get my bag for me? I forgot to grab a change of clothes before heading in here."

There was heartbeat of silence, "Yeah, sure."

As he headed downstairs, I inspected my arm. With all the black gone, the gashes were red and angry against the white of my fur. There were three that were fairly deep and a fourth that was barely more than a scratch. I wrapped a hand towel loosely around it while I waited.

I didn't have to wait long before a knock came at the door. "Got your bag, Jinx."

I gripped my towel a little tighter with my right hand and opened the door as little as possible, reaching through it with my left. A weight was settled into it, but just as I was about to withdraw it, I felt the towel I'd wrapped around it slip off.

My wrist was seized firmly. I swallowed hard, "Sly, can I have my hand back?"

I felt his fingers tracing something on my forearm, "These weren't here last year." It took me a second to figure out that he was talking about the thin scars I'd obtained from an unfortunate encounter with a tiger with the blood alcohol content of a small army of off-duty medical personnel. They were nearly invisible… unless the viewer was up close and personal and my fur was still fluffed up from my shower.

I bit the inside of my lip, "Very observant. Hand?"

His grip tightened infinitesimally, "What happened?"

I felt like punching him, "I'll tell you while you're patching me up, okay?"

He seemed to realize just how uncomfortable this situation was making me and dropped my arm. I drew it and the bag it held in quickly, closing the door again. I heard him clear his throat, "Wear something casual, Bentley's next job for you requires you to blend in."

They were letting me go out again? Awesome! I thought they were going to lock me in the Safehouse for a couple of months before letting me try again. I rummaged through my bag and found an older pair of jeans and a pale pink T-shirt. I towel-dried my hair violently before slipping into my clothes, then ran a comb through it, hoping it would behave for a while.

When I stepped out, Sly was sitting sideways to the table, where a medley of bandages was spread out. I rolled my eyes when he waved me to the chair across from him, but sat and offered him my arm.

He took it and lifted an alcohol swab with a devious glint in his eyes, "Payback."

"Don't you dare." I said, but my lips twitched in response. This was more like it.

Contrary to his words, he was extremely careful in cleaning the cuts. "So," he said casually, "What happened?"

I sighed, "Last September I was downtown with some friends. I'd wandered off out of boredom. I saw a tiger, completely plastered even though it was barely noon, yelling at his kid. After I saw him hit the boy, I don't even remember crossing the street, just throwing a punch. Yeah, I know, it was stupid and I was outmatched and should have gone to get help, but I was able to take him down with a kidney shot and I went to get help after that."

"But not before he gave you these," He remarked, running his fingers lightly over the thin scars, taking my other arm and locating the ones there too.

"That's it in one."

He pressed a gauze pad to the fresh cuts and began the tedious process of wrapping them up, "But what made you do that? It seems like a very concentrated reaction."

I cursed him mentally in several languages for choosing now to be perceptive, "When I was little, I went over to a friend's house. Her dad was an alcoholic and I was there on one of the bad days. I told my dad when he came to pick me up, but I always felt bad that I couldn't do anything to stop it at the time."

"How old were you?"

I had to think about that for a second, watching as he fastened the bandage in place, "It was third grade so… I must have been eight."

As he was so fond of doing, he dropped his hand on my head and gave the hair there a gentle tousle, being carefully of the bump.

"Hey, I just brushed my hair!" I complained, glaring at him from under the newly-apparent fringe.

Instead of retorting, he just grinned down at me, "Seems like every time you open your mouth nowadays, you're surprising me."

I was spared having to come up with a response by the Safehouse door opening and admitting Bentley, who used his lovely spring invention to scale the stairs.

"Oh, that's nice," He drawled, rolling into view. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at the sight of his shell and blue bicycle helmet splattered with little drops of tar, "I'm out, battling environmental crisis, and you two are sitting in here, _bonding_. No, by all means, don't get up, I've got it."

I laughed, sitting back in my chair, "So I take it the operation was a success?"

"Yup, they were nothing before 'The Murray'," He quoted, scrubbing his helmet clean with a washcloth. "Just one more job to pull for the day."

"The blueprints, right?" I asked, calling the slideshow to mind, "The ones in the coffee shops. Mmm… coffee…"

"The shops are closed down for Carnivale," Bentley said in amusement. "Sly is going to disguise himself as a guard and pretend to be the relief shift so I can get inside and find the blueprints."

"What about me?" I asked, looking down at my outfit.

"You are going to cause a little ruckus to draw attention away from the coffee shops," he said, hefting a wicked looking wrench with a smile, "How do you feel about sabotage?"

* * *

And that's a wrap! I only did a skim-proofread of this (thank you for your edits Mandy, you're the greatest) because it's 1:30 in the morning and I don't feel like reading the whole think at the moment.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought and don't forget to check out the series's blog for fanart, commentary, bios, etc. Link's on my profile page.


	6. The One With The Sabotage

And we are back! Finishing up Venice in this chapter, fun for the whole family! It's a good thing I've already got this story written because I'm so busy I barely have time to put on socks in the morning, much less write. I hope you enjoy!

On with the chapter!

* * *

"I actually rather like this job," I said, loosening yet another nut before looking around for guards and jumping down off the rooftop.

"_Aw, our little Jinx, all grown up._"

"Now, be careful. You're remembering to-"

"Loosen everything just enough so it'll fall apart after I'm well away. Don't worry so much, Bentley, just focus on getting that safe open. Sly, you might want to work on your Italian accent while you're waiting, it's just awful."

"_You're-a just-a jealous._"

I groaned loudly in protest and kept walking, sticking the wrench I'd been given into my belt, between the baton holster and the binocucom pouch.

My job in this excursion was to go around and loosen the fixtures on the pipes that carried the tar around the city so that, after a certain amount of time, they would come loose. Ideally, that would send guards running towards them and focusing less on the coffee shops Bentley and Sly were canvassing.

I just had one more set of pipes to hit before finding a nice vantage point to watch the carnage. I was thinking of heading above the police station, I needed to practice climbing anyway.

I thought of just how I was going to get up there while I was loosening the last set of pipes, though I was more focused on my task because the pipes were in plain sight.

That done, I headed down the street as casually as possible before turning right and running headlong into what felt like a brick wall.

My head protested violently as I stumbled back and gave it a shake to clear the cobwebs before looking up at what I'd run into.

"Didn't you used to be black?"

I stared blankly, but fortunately, my mouth kept working. I stumbled over my words a few times before finally coming up with, "Temporary dye, one of my friends talked me into trying it. I did, just to make her stop talking about it, but I don't like it too much."

The cougar from earlier was standing in front of me, hands in his pockets. His jogging clothes had been replaced with a pale blue button-down and a pair of black slacks. He looked like he was on his way home from a white-collar job, "White is more your color anyway."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so my mouth kept running, "Cripes, you're tall." And he was, he had to be at least 6'4".

He threw back his head and let out a laugh, "Is that so?" His accent seemed to be British, mixed with something distinctly southern, which was a weird combination to behold.

I opened my mouth to reply, but immediately shut it, wincing when I heard the first pipes give way a few blocks over, "Err, I have to go…"

One of his eyebrows went up, "Got somewhere to be?"

"Something like that," I said, sidling around him as I heard several pairs of footsteps running in our direction, "I heard there's an unsavory group of mobsters running the show around here and really don't feel like being out after dark." I nodded to the setting sun. Feeling like I should warn him, despite the fact that he looked like he could juggle mobsters with one hand, I added, "You might want to head home too."

"Oh, I think I'll be fine. See you around."

I hesitated briefly, but the mobsters were getting pretty close, "Yeah, see ya." I hurried off, taking to the roofs just as soon as I was out of sight.

"Guys," I said into my binocucom, "The tar pipes are coming loose, so security should be pretty thin temporarily."

"_You got it, Jinx. We've got one more coffee house to hit, then we'll have all the blueprints._"

"Yes, now you're talking sense!"

"_And then- we eat._"

* * *

"I just can't get it out of my head," Sly said, balancing his cane on one hand as he spoke, "Have you ever had pasta sauce _that_ good?"

"No, I don't like spaghetti, but I know how you feel," I said, staring mournfully out the window in the direction of the gelato shop.

"If we can begin?" Bentley said irritably from where he was positioned near the slide machine, "We do have a heist to pull this evening and I'd like everyone to know what we're doing. But if you want to sit there and compare recipes, don't let me stop you."

I exchanged glances with Sly and we both turned to the projector screen.

"Thank you," Bentley said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "With Octavio's comeback recital just a few hours away, we're all set up for the main event. Get ready for Operation: Tar-Be-Gone! Our objective: Get Murray back on the team. Sly, you'll start things off by using your disguise to get into the opera house. Make your way down to the pump room and let me and Kaia in through the side entrance. Thanks to blueprints we stole, I now know just where to bomb to cripple the machinery. While we're doing that, Kaia will sneak into Octavio's office and find some incriminating documents that we can pass on to Interpol."

"Whoo, I get a job!"

"…"

"Shutting up."

"Then we'll go for Octavio's detonation switch. I'm sure you'll agree that we can't leave a weapon that powerful in the hands of such a madman. I'll distract the old mobster with an opera duel, he's sure not to attack while we're both on stage…. Remarkable self-control, Kaia."

"Hardest thing I've ever done in my life."

"Meanwhile, Sly will cut the lines to the chandelier and drop it on his head! I'll swipe the switch and we'll all go find Murray. By then, the water will be sure to be running clear and he'll be free to come with us."

* * *

"Why aren't there any guards in the pump room?" I asked, leaning against the bars and looking into said room, "I mean, I'm not complaining, but it seems like a critical planning fault."

"A fault which I am currently exploiting," Bentley hissed, insisting on whispering even though we were alone. The door to the hall opened and he stiffened before relaxing, "Sly… Hey, Sly, over here!"

"Nice to see you two," Sly said facetiously, letting us in.

"Okay, we need to act quickly while the recital is getting under way," Bentley said, looking around.

"That's my cue," I said, slipping towards the door.

"Watch out for guards!"

"They should all be outside," At Sly's look, I amended, "But I'll be careful."

There were a couple of guards on patrol, but I was able to stay out of their sight as I made my way slowly to the second floor, where I assumed Octavio's office would be.

It was really easy to find, because it was the only one with two guards stationed out front.

I was trying to figure out how I could possibly get past them when the very foundation of the opera house shook with an explosion. I barely managed to duck behind a pedestal holding a bust before the guards took off, heading downstairs.

After waiting for a few moments to make sure they didn't have friends, I made my way over to the door. Surprise, surprise, it was locked. Still, that wasn't really a big deal. I might not have learned how to pick locks yet, but Sly had provided me with a variety of basic skeleton keys, just in case. They couldn't open every lock, but they could open quite a few and could hopefully do the job.

And sure enough, I got the door open with the second key I tried. I closed and locked the door behind me before turning to the room in question. There were old posters of various opera performances everywhere, but my focus was on the desk.

I searched the solid mahogany relic for nearly five minutes, but couldn't find anything, not even a false bottom in any of the drawers. Biting my lip, I turned back to the room. Bentley had mentioned that any incriminating documents might be in a safe instead, probably one behind a painting if the coffee houses were any indication.

There was only one painting that I could see. It was probably ridiculously expensive, but I'd never had much of an eye for art, so I pulled it off the wall and set it aside.

Sure enough, there was a wall safe. Fortunately, it was a classic metal safe with a numeric dial and not electronic. If it had been electronic, there would have been nothing I could do about it except leave the painting off the wall so the safe could be seen clearly.

However, since it was a dial safe, I could do something about it. I rubbed my hands against the carpet until they tingled, then placed the tips of the fingers of my left hand against the metal and rested my ears against it as well, keeping my right hand on the dial.

In the two hours we had to spare before the heist, Sly had given me a concentrated crash course in safe-cracking. I was not an expert by any means, but I had taken to it fairly easily. Despite little cartoons of people holding stethoscopes to safes, they were cracked by touch, not sound. My left hand was more sensitive than my dominant hand and so was my ear, which I was using for feeling, not listening.

I twisted the knob right, so very slowly, feeling for the drop of a tumbler. It took a good twenty minutes before I felt the last tumbler drop and the latch give.

I breathed a sigh of relief that the safe was so old and opened it up, "How's it going guys?"

"_We almost had Octavio, but then Carmelita showed up. So we're chasing him and she's chasing us."_

"Don't sound too excited Sly, someone might get the impression you're enjoying yourself." I teased before cutting the line and turning to the papers, trying to find the most incriminating stuff.

* * *

"_Jinx, you still in the opera house?_" Sly sounded out of breath

"Just leaving," I said, making my way up the stairs to the cellar door.

"_We need you to get street level ASAP. Octavio attacked Bentley. Murray and I are holding him off, but Bentley can't get to his wheelchair by himself and we need you to get him somewhere safe._"

"Consider it done." I said, throwing the cellar door open and hurrying up the last few steps, blinking in the sunlight.

"Fancy meeting you here."

I did a double take, "Who on Earth _are_ you?"

The cougar didn't get up from his relaxed seat on the stone edge of the garden fountain. He didn't have to; his Interpol badge did all the talking.

I fought the urge to groan loudly. Instead I crossed my arms and adopted a standoffish pose, "Can I _help_ you…?"

Unlike the agents I'd met in Paris, this guy didn't get off balance when I faced him down. If anything, he looked bored. The friendly face he'd worn the two times I'd met him before had disappeared entirely. He tucked his badge away in the back pocket of his slacks and gave me a smile that was not at all nice, "Inspector Kristian Garter, London branch of Interpol. Nice to finally be able to tell you that."

I set my jaw, injecting as much venom as possible into my voice when I asked, "What, so you've been _following_ me?"

He stood languidly. He had no reason to rush; I was pretty much cornered unless I wanted to head back into the opera house. "Well, your dad is throwing an unholy fuss, so I volunteered to be the Interpol interest in the 'case'. Basically, I was supposed to see if we had any grounds to have a case on you at all. And I wouldn't sound so scandalized if I was you, especially considering I just caught you coming out of the basement of a well-known mob boss. That's grounds enough to take you in."

"Kaia… where are you?"

I bit down on the inside of my lip, hard. After a second of thought, I nodded to myself, and slung my backpack off of my shoulders. Kristian watched in smug amusement, until I took two steps to the left and swung my backpack through the bars of the fence, dangling it over the canal, and locked eyes with him.

"This bag contains documents incriminating key parts of Octavio's operation. I can safely assume that's not your case, but you can either arrest me, a process during which I fully intend to drop this bag, or I can give you the documents and you can arrest someone who is actually causing harm. Your choice."

He stared at me for just a moment, then gave a razor thin smirk, "I think we are going to get along just fine, Kaia Jenks. Leave the files on the cellar door and I will become very interested in the clouds for a few moments."

I swallowed, taking the papers out of my backpack and putting them on the cellar doors, placing a small rock on top of them so the breeze wouldn't sweep them into the nearby canal.

Sure enough, when I looked up, Kristian appeared to be cloud-gazing very intently. I ran past him, drew myself up and over the low fence of the garden, and took off down the cobblestone street, not daring to look back.

* * *

"I'm _so_ sorry, Bentley!" I said when I reached the turtle, righting his wheelchair and helping him into it, "I got delayed."

"What could have _possibly_ delayed you?" He hissed out, rubbing his head.

I glanced over my shoulder, "I'll tell you later, once we're safely out of town."

"You've got a point; we need to get out of here before Carmelita puts the city under martial law." He shook his head one last time, "Come on, let's get going."

* * *

We met up with Sly and Murray (who nearly broke my back with the ferocity of his hug) on the way to the airport. We stopped in a public restroom to change into disguises (except me, because I was actually using my passport) and then quickly hurried into the enormous series of buildings.

Sly was using his college student outfit, Bentley was an old man, and Murray was actually just using the clean passport Bentley had forged for him when he went off to go find his 'spiritual center'.

I went to the gate first and settled in, having tucked my field kit into my actual backpack. I rubbed at the lids of my eyes with the heels of my hands, sighing. Now that the heist was over, I was crashing off of the adrenaline and I was _tired_.

A weight settled into the seat next to me and I glanced over to see Sly holding out a cone to me, "Gelato, _signorina?_"

I laughed, taking it, "_Grazie_. What flavor is it?"

"Dark chocolate and coffee." He said, turning to his own cup.

"Ah, well done."

We sat in silence, enjoying our frozen treats, until Bentley and Murray made their way over. The turtle turned to me and said, "Okay, we've got an hour to kill until our plane gets here. Kaia, I think you should tell us what happened in the opera house. Did you get the files?"

"Eheh," I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, "Well, funny story…"

I told them what had happened: getting into Octavio's office, finding and cracking the safe, getting the files and the unfortunate encounter afterwards.

"And his badge wasn't a fake?"

I shook my head, "No, Sly, it was legitimate. And what's more, I ran into him twice before that. Once when I was out running yesterday, and earlier today when I was loosening the tar pipes. He didn't tell me who he was then, of course."

Bentley looked thoughtful, "What did you say his name was?"

"Kristian, Inspector Kristian Garter." Seeing the look on his face, I added, "Do you know him?"

"Maybe," He said slowly, "I'll look him up in Interpol's personnel files when we get back home, I don't trust the airport wifi. The important thing is that Interpol has the files and not you."

"Our plane is here!" Murray exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down in his chair.

"Ugh, home sweet home," I lifted myself out of the chair with muscles that protested, "I can't wait."

* * *

By the time we got back to The Safehouse, I was dead tired. I'd managed to sleep a little by using Sly as a pillow, but the flight wasn't long enough for me to get a really good nap in.

So when we finally got in, I grunted something in the form of an excuse and went upstairs to my room, flopping onto the bed and not waking up for twelve hours.

At one in the afternoon, I blearily stumbled into my bathroom and took a scalding shower, belatedly remembering to remove the bandage on my arm after I'd shampooed my hair. That done, I went into my closet and found yet another T-shirt and jeans combo before reemerging into my room.

While we're on the subject, I adored my room. It was small, but I preferred it that way. There were two windows on the wall opposite the door, which was also the wall my bed was pushed against lengthwise. It was a 'full' sized bed with a high headboard and simple canopy, bigger than a twin, but smaller than a queen.

On the same wall as the door was the door that led to the bathroom and closet. The wall to the left was home to a writing desk (which in turn was home to a very impressive computer) and a mounted television (which I had yet to use) across from the bed. The only other furniture in the room was a night table to the right of the bed and a chair for the writing desk.

The crowning feature of the room was the wall color. The base color was a midnight blue (which the bedcovers matched), but coming down from the ceiling were bands of various other colors that were varying in opacity. It all reminded me rather fondly of the Northern Lights I'd seen in Canada.

Finally squeaky clean, I headed over to my computer and did a quick Google search.

* * *

Sly was trying very hard not to fall asleep in his oatmeal when Kaia came bounding down the stairs, and started talking more quickly and loudly than anyone should have been allowed when he was that tired.

"Hi, Bentley, Sly! Murray! Buddy ol' pal ol' friend, let's go bond!" She seized the hippo by the arm and dragged him out the door like she'd just chosen him to be her new shopping buddy of rainbow friendship.

Taking pity on his friend, Bentley brought over the coffee pot and placed it at his elbow. "Are you beyond monosyllables yet?"

The raccoon grunted in response, drinking the scalding coffee straight out of the pot.

Bentley sat nearby, working on something on his laptop and waiting for the coffee to kick in so he could talk to his friend. After about fifteen minutes, he started to speak, "So, I found Kristian Garter in the Interpol database."

"And?" Sly asked, upending the remains of a bag of brown sugar into his bowl.

"I knew the name sounded familiar." The turtle turned the laptop around so Sly could see the screen, "Recognize him?"

Narrowing his brown eyes at the screen, it took the raccoon a few moments to reply, "_Where_ have I seen him before?"

Bentley turned the laptop back around, "Inspector Kristian Garter, London branch of Interpol. At the age of thirteen he survived a home invasion gone wrong that claimed the lives of his parents and younger brother. With no surviving relatives capable of taking him in, he was sent to the Happy Campers Orphanage."

Sly choked on his spoonful of oatmeal.

"That was roughly my reaction as well."

After downing half a glass of milk and regaining the ability to breathe, Sly turned the computer back around to look at the image, "I remember him now! You used to hang out with him all the time, way back when I first came to the orphanage. He never liked me."

Bentley nodded, reclaiming his laptop, "He came to the orphanage when I was eight, two years before you did. He was always nice to me, but I think now that that's because I was roughly the same age his brother had been. He got really into his studies in high school, though. He earned himself a scholarship to Cambridge and joined the force soon after graduation. He rose through the ranks at an alarming rate, getting himself a spot at Interpol when he was just twenty five. That was three years ago."

"Geez," Sly ran a hand through his hair, "What's he doing on Jinx's case?"

"He requested it, apparently."

"I don't like this," the thief stood and began pacing, "I do not like this at _all_."

"I agree and I definitely don't think it's coincidental." Bentley closed the laptop with a sigh, "I'll keep an eye on things, but that's really all we can do right now. We'll just have to be wary and react accordingly. Hopefully, that will be enough."

* * *

I stood in front of the spoils of my trip, arms crossed and staring them down as though my determination alone could cause them to leap to life and take care of themselves.

Sly's many and varied musings on the merits of home cooked meals had not fallen on deaf ears and I had before me the makings of spaghetti, meatballs, salad, garlic bread, and chocolate cake. The problem with this was that of those foods, I'd only made salad before.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair and consulting the small stack of papers I'd printed off the internet. I was making everything from scratch (excluding the bread and the noodles, I was not even going to attempt that), for which the internet was very helpful.

The only problem was getting started.

"Has this place ever been used before?" I asked aloud, digging around the unfamiliar kitchen in search of mixing bowls, spoons, pots, and pans. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and required washing; I was honestly surprised that I didn't find any cobwebs.

After an intense argument with the stove and the oven, a truce was reached and I was able to get started.

A couple of hours later, Sly wandered in, yawning, obviously having just woken up from a nap, and I rounded on him.

"You'd better appreciate this!" I said, shaking my wooden spoon at him and getting little droplets of tomato juice everywhere, "This is harder than it looks!"

He blinked at me for a second in surprise, then looked around the kitchen, taking in the chaos. After that, his grin could have split the atom. "You're making dinner?"

"From scratch. This better be the best food you've ever tasted in your life," I said, turning to dump the spaghetti noodles into a large pot of boiling water. I jumped and almost elbowed him in the face when he grabbed me from behind in a bear hug.

"I love you!"

I laughed and gave him a shove, "Yeah, yeah, we'll see if you still say that once it's finished. I don't like spaghetti or tomatoes, so I have no idea how to taste test this stuff."

Then Murray wandered in, "You're making cake?! Can I lick the bowl?"

Before long, the entire gang had congregated in the kitchen. Bentley was lecturing us on the surprising amount of chemical reactions that occur when cooking, Murray was indeed licking the cake bowl, and Sly kept trying to sneak meatballs when he thought I wasn't looking.

After dinner (which turned out surprisingly well, if I do say so myself), we headed into the living room and all crowded onto the dilapidated old couch (even Bentley, though Sly was crouched on the back of the couch and 'accidentally' distracting us as critical points), balancing plates of cake on our knees precariously and trying to kill each other in Mario Kart.

I was having a blast, but after a particularly close race on Rainbow Road, Sly turned to Murray, who was staring off into the distance, "What's wrong buddy?"

Murray sighed, almost setting his controller in his cake by accident, "I just don't feel right giving up on my training without my guru saying it's okay, guys. I want to be back on the gang, but it doesn't feel right not talking to him about it."

"Well then," Bentley said, resting his controller on his knees, "Why don't we go talk to him about it?"

The hippo perked up immediately, "Really?"

"Why not?" Sly said, "Besides, we need to break in Jinx's new passport anyway."

"Wait, what?"

* * *

And that's it for now, folks! Congrats to those of you that correctly guessed the Cougar of Ambiguous Purpose was an Interpol Agent. I'll be interested to know your thoughts on him, so feel free to drop me a line, either in a review or at the blog.

Hope you enjoyed!


	7. The One With The Lemonade Bar

Today's chapter is a little early because I plan on going to bed _long_ before midnight, when I usually post these, and didn't want to forget.

This chapter contains the entirety of Australia. It's probably going to seem a little rushed, but that's because I despise that level and wanted to get done writing it as soon as possible.

So without further ado: Enjoy!

* * *

Just for future reference, if you're planning a trip, sixteen hours is fifteen hours too long to spend in a plane, especially when you're going to the Australian outback. While the home of awesome accents, the nearest decent shower to our proposed destination was about eighty miles past where Jesus lost his sandals.

On the three hour long drive out to where Murray said his guru lived, we were regaled with stories of his awesomeness that the hippo hadn't been able to fit into the plane ride. My iPod had died about five hours back and I'd come to the firm conclusion that most of what Murray claimed his guru could do, I would have to see to believe. Even then, I'd probably be worried that someone had spiked my water with a hallucinogen.

When the sturdy Jeep we'd rented rumbled up to the canyon, we became painfully aware that, once again, things had not gone to plan.

"I don't know about you guys," I said, peering over the edge, "But that looks like a full scale mining operation to me."

"I'm guessing that wasn't here the last time you were," Sly asked gently of Murray, who looked close to tears.

"No, I've never seen any of this before. And I can't see my guru anywhere!"

"It'll be alright, Murray." Bentley said, looking over the camp, "See that abandoned building down there? We'll adopt that as a temporary Safehouse for now and look for the Guru from there."

* * *

Once we all managed to get down to the building, Bentley went about setting up his tech (which he seemed to pull from some unseen fourth dimension) on a series of abandoned crates while Sly, Murray, and I ripped down boards that had been nailed up over three large floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Alright," Bentley said, plugging in the last set of chords, "Sly, you up for some recon?"

"Always," the thief replied, giving a toothy grin and slipping outside. Murray and I hovered behind Bentley as he turned on the binocucom station.

"The miners have _really_ torn this place up looking for opals. Watch your step, they're sure to get rough defending their claim." Bentley advised, peering at the screen that showed Sly's binocucom.

"My master spends most of his time up there in that cave," Murray pointed it out to Sly, "Looking over the valley and contemplating the depths of deepness. I really appreciate you breaking the news to him that I want to break off my training."

"_No problem, pal. I'm looking forward to meeting him. Anyone you call 'master' must be a heck of a guy."_

"Oh, he's awesome! He'll get inside your head and freak you out six ways from Sunday!"

"_Uh… awesome._"

Normally, I would have had something sarcastic to say in that conversation, but I was too busy staring into dark corners to make sure they didn't house tarantulas to be paying that much attention.

Sly's voice came back over the speakers after a couple of minutes and a short climb, "_Sorry pal, but nobody's home. Got any idea where else he might be?_"

"Well, that's his hut," Murray said, indicating a small ledge clear across the canyon, "But he doesn't really hang out there on account of… the smell."

_"The smell?_"

Murray huffed out a sigh, "It's a long story, I had to apologize up and down for like a month before he'd speak to me again."

"_What'd you do?_"

"You don't really have to tell us," I was quick to add.

"The Unspeakable, guys. The Un-Speakable."

"_Well, thanks for… speaking of it. I'm headed for the hut._"

While he was en route, I turned to Bentley, "What's so great about opals?"

"They're precious stones that come in every color under the sun, which makes them in high demand for jewelry makers." He flicked his eyes over his shoulder at me, "That gem in your necklace is an opal, actually."

My hand went to touch the pendant Sly had given me ages ago on reflex, "Really?"

"Yes, though green, even that particular shade, is a very common color of opal. Red and black are the rarest and that's what the miners have found here."

Sly's voice came over the binocucom yet again, "_Sorry Murray, nobody's home. And by the looks of it, I'd say the Guru was fighting something or someone off here. I'm starting to think the miners might have gotten to him._"

"You're probably right," Murray said sadly, "They'd come in and be all angry and yelling and he'd be all peaceful and they'd just get ticked! Then he'd try to find a 'middle way' and they'd just go crazy- and smash everything up- and haul him off!"

"_Do you have any idea where they might have taken him?_"

"They got him! My master's a goner!"

"_Er, maybe we should get Bentley on the line…_" I took this as my cue to push Murray over to a corner he could cry in and drag Bentley in front of the binocucom station. That was probably abuse of the unspoken wheelchair clause, but Bentley didn't seem to care, he didn't even look up from his map.

"It's difficult to say, but I'd say that the miners might be using that area with a high fence as a makeshift stockade."

"_It looks like there might be a way up there using that cliff below._"

"Just watch out for that gyrocopter," Bentley said, peering out the windows at it, "I'm positive it's what gave away the Guru's position."

"_Good tip. Thanks pal._"

"These miners have no respect for the Aboriginal sacred sites. They're drilling into everything, Ayer's Rock, Cape Canyon…" He continued mumbling as he poured over his maps, "Wave Rock… The cultural insensitivity is sickening."

"Let me guess," I asked, "We're going to do something about that, aren't we?"

"Most probably."

Sly returned a few minutes later, "I found the Guru, but he won't leave without his gear."

"He's alive!" Murray cheered.

Bentley nodded, "I thought as much. I'm going to have to do some research to formulate a plan. Think you can come up with something to do for a couple of hours?"

"Sure," before I knew up from down, Sly had crossed the room and grabbed hold of the back of my shirt, "Come on, Jinx, you're getting some rock climbing practice."

* * *

"Was that entirely necessary?" I grumbled two and a half hours later, picking at the quickly-forming blisters on the heels of my hands and not even bothering to try to remove the fine layer of red dirt that now coated my fur.

"Given the amount of wall-hooks in this place and the look on Bentley's face, yes. Yes it was." Sly had had great fun torturing me in the name of training.

"The Guru won't leave the stockade until he has his walking staff and Moonstone," Bentley began, going to town on his slides with a Vis-à-vis marker. "He also insists we purify Ayer's rock of miners, only then will the Dreamtime spirits be appeased and he'll be free to use his powers. Sly must have impressed him, because now he's requesting Murray, Kaia, and I meet with him individually. Something about judging our 'spiritual centers'. I've discovered a path through one of the miners' caves that should make getting up to the Guru less difficult. He also mentioned that the miners have foolishly unearthed 'The Mask of Dark Earth'. I guess it was his job to guard the thing and now that it's loose, bad things are sure to follow."

"Cynical comment."

"I know, it sounds like mumbo jumbo to me too, but we've encountered some unexplainable phenomena in the past, so I'm not going to rule it out as a threat to our operation."

* * *

Sly and I headed out first. According to Bentley, the miners had divided the Guru's walking staff and Moonstone and were hiding them in two different caves, so we had to steal them at almost the same time to avoid an unsavory amount of attention on the remaining piece when the theft was discovered.

But first, I had to meet the Guru.

"All I'm saying," I whispered as we made our way to the stockade, "Is that I'm not sure how seriously I'll be able to take this guy. I mean, ghosts are one thing, but the way Murray talked about this guy made him sound like he'd come straight out of a Star Wars novel."

"You know, there's no reason to be nervous."

I almost fell off the wire I was balancing on, "Nervous? Where the heck did you get that from?" The extra octave in my voice did not help my incredulity.

"I'm sure he'll like you just fine."

"I'm _not_ nervous."

He waved me toward the stockade, "Just smile and be your charming self."

"I'm also not charming, you deluded raccoon," I said, sticking my tongue out at him and dropping down in front of the stockade.

For a second, I couldn't see the Guru, then I caught sight of the small purple koala ambling up towards me.

I cleared my throat, "Uh, hi. I'm Kaia Jenks. Bentley said you wanted to meet with us individually and judge our 'spiritual centers'… I came first because I'm going to help Sly get your stuff back and we wanted to make sure it was alright with you and wouldn't mess up the spiritual essence of your gear. Or something." Sweet Lord, I sounded ridiculous.

I listened to what he had to say, then stared at him blankly for a minute, "Whaddya mean 'grey'?"

No one should be able to feign innocence like that.

"Okay… whatever. I'm going to go get your stuff. I'll see you later…"

Sly gave me a hand up onto the roof, "So, how'd it go?"

"… He's weird."

"Fantastic. Come on, let's get going."

* * *

"These caves are dark as sin," I spoke into my binocucom with a hushed voice, "I can see vague outlines with these depth optimizer goggles you gave me, but that's about it."

"Can you see well enough to find your way?"

"Yeah, it should be fine. Looks like I'll have to use the rail slide a bit, though."

"_Be careful, you're not good at that yet._"

"I'm well aware of that, thank you, Sly." I flicked off my binocucom and began to tackle the rail slides. I did not like slippery rails by any stretch of the imagination. I could land fine, but I had a really hard time keeping my balance. Fortunately, as I was going up, not down, I just had to land right and then immediately jump again and hope that my legs didn't fly out from under me in the meantime.

Then I came to the hanging hooks. They were parts of conveyor belt cables, presumably to carry buckets of opals back to the entrance. In this case, I needed them to carry me across.

I un-holstered my baton, looked down apprehensively, and swallowed. Bentley had modified it so that, at the push of a button, a three edged hook would extend from the top section of the weapon. This added to the weight, making it do more damage, and let me go climbing, but somehow, I wished it had never been added.

After a harrowing minute of hanging over pure darkness with nothing but thin metal and glove grips protecting me from a bone shattering and likely lethal fall, I finally leapt to (relative) safety. I crept up a set of mine tracks to a small cave wherein lay a safe, but no traps.

The pure darkness actually made it easier to crack the safe. Not being able to see doesn't actually heighten your senses, it just makes you notice them more by eliminating distraction. It's kind of like how people who use calculators suck at math. They know what's supposed to happen to solve the problem, but they don't practice enough to be able to do it themselves without electronic aid.

It was only after the safe was opened and I had the Guru's walking staff in hand that the snag became apparent.

"Guys, it looks like this thing is booby-trapped. And I just picked it up."

"_Mine was like that too, it's a light sensitive detonator. Get out into the sunlight as fast as you can and everything should be fine._"

"There's a slight problem with that," I said as the first howls of angry dingoes reached my ears, tucking the walking staff into the straps of my backpack and preparing for a sprint, "The miners must have found out the moonstone was missing. They're heading this way now to check on the staff, I have to run past them to get out into the sun."

"Be careful," This came from Bentley, as Sly seemed to have lapsed into horrified silence, "They can knock you into the pits by twitching, use the smoke pellets I gave you if you get cornered."

"I will." I said and started running.

* * *

"I almost died so many times getting this thing, it is not even funny," I said, lobbing the walking staff haphazardly at Bentley, who, in a rare display of the reflexes he still possessed, caught it without having to look up. "Where are Murray and Sly?"

"Once we determined that we wouldn't have to fight through a horde of angry dingoes to prevent your untimely demise, they took off to go purify Ayer's Rock. You don't want to know," He added as I opened my mouth to question what he meant by 'purify'.

I shrugged, "You going to go give the Guru his stuff?"

"That I am. I'm not leaving you without a project though," He waved to a cooler that I was pretty sure I'd never seen before and a pile of what looked like dirty laundry.

"… Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this project?"

* * *

An hour and a half later, the gang plus the Guru was crammed into the Safehouse, watching in fascination as Bentley turned on the projector he had brought with him for some unholy reason.

"The Guru has agreed to join our gang, provided we can rid the canyon of the dingo miners and deal with the Mask of Dark Earth," Bentley said in recap, with a nod to the old koala, "It's a tall order, but we're up for it. First, we'll employ the aid of some local wildlife to help wear on the miners' nerves. Kaia has graciously helped me to make up a large quantity of pieces of raw meat saturated with the miners' scent, which Murray will feed to the local giant croc."

"I wouldn't say 'graciously' was the right word…"

"Hopefully, the croc will develop a taste for it and take to harassing the miners. Next, we'll hit these guys where they live or, at least, relax. If we can clear them out of this lemonade bar," A picture of it appeared, "It will be a crippling blow to their morale. They'll be _begging_ to go home!"

"A _lemonade_ bar?"

"Hard lemonade," Sly supplied with a laugh at my incredulity. "It's a favorite for drinking contests because it mixes alcohol with the sourness of the lemonade."

"What a masculine pastime," I said in my most uppity feminine voice. It must have taken Sly by surprise because he choked on his water.

"_Finally_," Bentley said with a glare at the two of us, "Sly will use some mining equipment to drill for radioactive oil deep beneath the dry lakebed. Trust me; it's the key to getting rid of the Mask of Dark Earth."

* * *

The feeding of the croc and the mining of the oil went well for what we were attempting to do, aside from when Murray thoroughly irradiated himself. After coming to the conclusion that a little radiation might actually be good for him, the needed oil was gathered and the gang assembled again to go hit the lemonade bar.

Which led to the current situation.

"What do you _mean_ I can't come?!"

Sly's expression was a curious mixture of poorly hidden amusement and longsuffering, "Jinx, it's a _bar_. How old are you?"

"You don't have to be twenty-one to get into a bar, just to drink! And you know what? The drinking age in Australia is eighteen anyway!"

"If you come in with us as a member of the Cooper gang, you're going to _have_ to drink, most probably." Bentley pointed out. "And I know you abhor the idea of drinking."

I wrestled with this for a moment. It was true, I hated it. I saw no point in drinking whatsoever and had seen only bad things come of it in my admittedly short tenure in college. I knew the guys were just looking out for me and I appreciated the idea of chivalry just as much as the next girl, but the guys were going to be out in the midst of something and, as a member of the gang, I wanted to be there too.

I finally came up with, "So, what, do I just stay here and play tiddlywinks with the Guru?"

The Guru grumbled a protest.

"No offense," I added over my shoulder.

"Jinx," Sly's expression had softened past the longsuffering, "Sit this one out and in exchange, I'll teach you that technique from the Thievius Raccoonus to slow time down."

It was a dirty trick to offer that bargain and he knew it, which was, I suspect, why he had been keeping it in reserve. It didn't actually slow down time, of course, it just allowed the user to move and process information so quickly that time _appeared_ to slow. It was one of several techniques from the ancient book that I couldn't even understand the theory behind and thus, the bane of my attempts to learn.

I finally grumbled an assent and forced him to finalize the deal with a pinky swear before turning back to the Guru as the gang walked away, "Do you know how to play cards?"

* * *

"You cheater!"

The Guru chuckled happily and muttered under his breath, collecting his earnings.

"I am not a sore loser, you fuzzy purple soccer ball!"

The Guru and I were laying on the floor of the Safehouse, a pile of cards between us, when the door swung open and Sly, Bentley, and Murray stumbled inside, all looking a bit worse for wear, but immensely satisfied and in high spirits.

I took in their sorry looking state and reached for my first-aid kit, "Bar fight?"

"Yup," Sly said, half supporting Murray but sparing me a grin. "You would have hated it. A drinking contest followed by a bar fight. Very masculine."

This time I was the one to laugh as I opened up the kit, "Alright, who's first?"

After a brief argument over who would get patched up first (we settled on Bentley so he could then patch up Murray while I patched up Sly) and doing said patching up, we sat down to yet another slideshow, the last in Australia, if everything went to plan. But let's face it, when did everything ever go to plan?

"You can feel it in the air, the miners are about to pack it in. They'd already be long gone if it weren't for the corrupting influence of the Mask of Dark Earth. Obviously we need to destroy it. Time for Operation: Moon Crash!"

I just kind of sat back, settled my gaze on the projector screen and let my eyes glaze over. At this point I sort of had to accept that the Guru could do some weird stuff and that the Mask of Dark Earth wasn't exactly inanimate, but it would take a lot for me to regard the mythic folklore as empirical fact for basing an operation on. Bentley was much better at shifting his paradigms than I was.

Besides, all I really had to do was stay in the Jeep and keep the engine running for getting the heck out of dodge as soon as everything was over, a task I would enjoy because it meant putting the desert behind us.

"… the Guru will be free to join us on the Cooper Vault job." Bentley finished, switching off the projector. We all glanced outside as the sun began to peek over the canyon wall and he added wryly, "Obviously, this is scheduled for tonight. Let's get some sleep."

* * *

I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel in a weak imitation of the music I wished I was hearing. I'd recharged my iPod with Bentley's equipment, but wanted to be able to hear if something went horribly wrong which was, unfortunately, just as likely for the Cooper gang as was everything going perfectly well.

It was fifteen minutes into OP: Moon Crash when I was hailed on the binocucom.

"Things have gotten a bit out of hand, Kaia. Head toward the marker I'm projecting."

I was shifting the Jeep into drive even as I replied, "Dare I ask?"

"I don't think you'd believe us even if we told you. You'll have to see it first. Drive, Murray, drive!"

When I did see it, I had to admit that he was right, "Guys, why is a ten story tall Carmelita chasing you and carrying a truck full of explosives?"

I heard Sly heave a dramatic sigh, "_All I did was say she had something on her face. Such an overreaction._"

"So, we can blame Sly for this one, then?" I asked, swerving around a sharp turn to avoid being smeared messily against the canyon wall.

"Hardly. The Mask of Dark Earth fled to Carmelita when Murray's Thunder Flop missed. I tried to sedate her and my darts seemed to react with the Mask to make her even larger somehow. Bad luck, really."

"_So we're blaming Carme-large-a on you, Jinx._"

In order to avoid a particularly close explosive thrown by the hundred foot tall fox, Murray had to swerve and finally pulled over upon reaching Ayer's Rock. I screeched to a halt nearby, leapt out, and joined the gang.

"… pry off that Mask of Dark Earth and maybe we'll get back the Carmelita we all know and love." Sly was saying as I ran up.

"I do _not_ love her!" Murray protested emphatically.

"Okay, not the point," Sly said, "It's all about taking off that mask. We've gotta find a way up there."

I actually had to crane my neck to see the Mask, "How does something do that?" I wondered aloud.

"Well, you're the climber," Bentley venture in response to Sly. "And I'm sure you've always wanted to get closer to her. Can't get much closer than climbing up her boot laces."

"That's not a crazy idea," Sly actually sounded contemplative.

"Oh yeah, it's crazy." Murray insisted, causing the raccoon to round on him.

"You got a better idea?" he asked with thinly veiled annoyance.

"Yeah, but we'd need a giant, fighting robot!" Murray gesticulated wildly.

"Sorry, going to have to go with the boot laces thing," Sly quipped patiently, running off.

I couldn't resist calling after him, "Try to make sure she doesn't step on you! I don't feel like scraping you off the bottom of the canyon!"

* * *

When Carmelita finally shrunk back down to her usual size, it was silently and unanimously voted that I'd be the one to make sure she was still breathing as I was the only other female within several dozen miles. A consultation with Bentley confirmed that she was fine, but the high amount of sedatives he'd fired at her in an attempt to keep her from barbecuing Sly with her shock pistol would keep her out for several hours at least.

Considering we couldn't exactly leave her there as a tasty treat for the local wildlife, I covered her with an emergency blanket from my kit and Sly and the Guru made a campfire that we huddled around as the chill of a desert night began to settle in.

It was mostly silent… until Sly found Carmelita's Interpol-issued camera.

I was voted photographer, something I did not exactly contest as I was not fond of the idea of being photographed in my disheveled state.

We rode the high of adrenaline and anxiety and took stupid pictures until dawn began to break. Sly climbed a ridge with a map in an attempt to ascertain where we were and scrambled back down less than a minute after climbing up, demanding that we all scale the ridge as well.

As soon as I got up there, I could see what he'd been so excited about. The sun had just begun to crest the horizon, striking the few wispy clouds already in the sky with unimaginable shades of pink and orange, which threw the whole remarkable landscape into a palette of colors that would make even an artist weep.

We didn't have near as long to enjoy it as I would have liked because of the weak groan that came from the direction we'd left Carmelita.

We dashed back to the Jeep, Sly only pausing long enough to deposit the camera on a nearby rock in plain view and leave a note that suggested immediate development of the film.

I took the wheel, for the simple reason that I made it to the Jeep first and refused to relinquish it to Murray, shifted into drive, turned my music up to unholy levels and rumbled away across the desert.

* * *

In my original version of this chapter, I swear the Guru totally had actual dialogue, but half the fun of the Guru's character is never knowing _exactly_ what he says. When I was writing this out in Word, I has able to use an unreadable font to write his dialogue, but wouldn't let it carry over, so now you'll just have to wonder.

But yes, that is this chapter! I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought and be sure to check out the blog!


	8. The One With The Story

This week's chapter is also early, because I'm doing GISHWHES and it starts tonight and there's no way I'm going to remember to post this in the heat of The Hunt. That said, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"Jinx, if I go deaf, I am blaming you." Sly said firmly after we returned the Jeep to the airport.

"You're exaggerating," I said, doing my very best to keep a straight face, "It wasn't that loud."

Complaining, the Guru repeatedly pressed a hand to his ear and glanced at it.

"Okay, no offense, Guru, but I'm pretty sure you come from a time before the magnificence of the car stereo, so your opinion isn't technically valid."

"But mine is," Bentley said from under his typical disguise, "And I'd be surprised if you don't have permanent damage to your ears if you always listen to music that loudly."

"Come now," I said, taking great joy in the conversation, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Brain damage," Sly said definitively, "It's got to be brain damage. No way has she taken that many hits to the head and come away unscathed."

"Drama queens, the lot of you," I said, finally breaking my façade and cracking a smile before striding away, breaking up our conspicuous group and entering the queue for security first.

A few minutes later I was browsing one of the gift shops and looking for a little trinket to purchase, as was my custom. I was in the midst of deciding between a little plush kangaroo and a coffee cup when there came a firm tap on my shoulder.

I turned and did not even bother trying to hide my reaction in any way.

"Oh there's no reason for that," Kristian said to my loud, obnoxious groan.

"Inspector Garter," I drawled, thumbing the mic on my binocucom so the gang could listen in and there wouldn't be any misunderstandings if Bentley wheeled by and saw me chatting to the tall, sharply dressed cougar, "To what do I owe this dubious and unwanted pleasure?"

"A very put out Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox," he said, matching my dry tone and giving me the impression he didn't think too highly of his fellow Interpol agent, "She's having her mercenaries comb every inch of that landscape searching for the Cooper gang. I believed I would have more luck here. So tell me, Ms. Jenks." His speech was mockingly formal, "What reason do I have not to apprehend you today?"

Was he serious?

"_Is he serious?_"

"I believe so. I suspect that he has an ulterior motive for requesting your case, Kaia; one that cannot be achieved if he solves it."

I squared my shoulders and tilted my head up to meet teal eyes, "An illegal mining operation on a protected Aboriginal sacred site."

"So I've heard. An abandoned drill and mine at Ayer's Rock is not a very enticing red herring." The unspoken message was clear: 'You'll have to do better than that.'

I mirrored his razor thin smile, "Is that so? Inspector Fox must have taken quite the blow to the head if that's all she has to offer." Or a healthy cocktail of sedatives. "The main operation is at Wave Rock. Buildings, equipment, even a makeshift bar. If you hurry, you might even catch a few of the miners before they do away with the decisive evidence."

His not nice smile widened until I was curious if he'd cut himself, "That's more like it. I'll be seeing you, Jenks." He strolled away as if he was a generous man and his footsteps were made of gold. His place was taken by Sly in under a minute.

"All good?"

"Meh, a little sleep deprived, but I can't complain really." I held the little plush and the coffee cup up for his inspection, "Well, which ridiculously expensive and useless trinket do you think I should get?"

He smiled, seemingly pleased, and suggested the coffee cup, as I knew he would. I bought the little kangaroo, tucked it into my backpack, and we hurried toward our gate as it began to board.

* * *

I was beginning to wonder if this 'come home, flop on bed, don't move for twelve hours' thing was going to be a permanent fixture to the end of a job. It was worrisome, considering how much time I'd spent asleep on the plane. Then again, have you ever noticed that no matter how much you sleep on a trip, you're always exhausted at the end anyway?

It was eleven in the morning before I stirred and it took a good deal of mental coercion to convince myself to actually get out of bed. I couldn't quite bear to part with my comfortable pajamas quite yet, so I searched around in my closet for a jacket until I came across a robe I was pretty sure I didn't own and pulled it on.

I didn't bother with shoes or socks, instead making my way down the stairs barefoot and as quietly as possible. The Safehouse at midday was as still and silent as the average house was at three in the morning.

However, there's always that one eccentric insomniac that stays awake far later.

"Bentley, you seriously need sleep," I said, shuffling through his workspace purposefully on my way to the kitchen.

He smiled at me through some strange contraption that seemed designed to magnify his eyesight to the microscopic level. "I got a solid eight hours; I have no idea what you're talking about. You, on the other hand, I was worried would go into a coma."

I flapped my hand dismissively at him, returning soon with a cold can of carbonated caffeine (coffee took too long) and situating myself in a chair next to his, "Is it always like this at the end of a job?"

"You mean everyone going comatose for ridiculous amounts of time? Yeah. I usually don't do it so much, but Murray attaches himself to his pillow and Sly sleeps until the sun goes down, no matter what time we get in. The longest I've seen him sleep is nineteen hours."

I whistled, "Impressive."

"Indeed. He's gotten better, though. It used to be much worse."

"How long have you guys been doing this?" I asked, waving a hand to encompass The Safehouse and symbolize their thieving past.

"We started just as soon as Sly got out of the orphanage. They kicked you out when you turned eighteen, so Murray and I were out for quite some time before Sly was. Things were a lot different then."

I was intrigued, "How so?"

He seemed to be getting into a storytelling mood himself, "How much do you know about what happened with Clockwerk?"

"Just the basics," I admitted. I'd gotten them when I barely knew the gang and it seemed insensitive to bring it up to satisfy my own curiosity.

He nodded to himself, "From the beginning, then. When Sly was eight, a group known as the Fiendish Five with Clockwerk at their head broke into his house, killed his father, and divided up the Thievius Raccoonus. He witnessed the whole thing," Bentley dropped his voice to barely a whisper for the last sentence, in respect. "He met Murray and I at the orphanage where he was sent."

I opened my mouth, then shut it, not knowing if there was a correct way to phrase my question.

Fortunately, Bentley is a genius and picked up on my question. "Murray never told us how he came to be in the orphanage and we never asked. I was at the orphanage before I was ever really born, I showed up on the doorstep one day as an egg. We pulled our first heist later that year, stealing cookies from the office of the orphanage's headmistress. By the way, best cookies ever."

"And from there it was history?" I asked, mouth twitching at the idea of the little thieves.

He laughed so hard I thought he was going to hurt himself, "Not hardly," He gasped out finally, "We had a lot of pitfalls. You hear often people saying they're like siblings to describe a degree of close friendship. We were really like siblings in that we sometimes drove each other to distraction, but knew that we were all we had and the idea of not having each other was terrifying. In the time between when we became adults and when Sly did, Murray was a pizza delivery driver and I got myself a job doing computer repairs. We probably would have gone on to live very normal lives if it weren't for that one little brother waiting to get out into the world.

"Sly was a happy kid, but a lot of that was because he had no idea what to do with the trauma of what he had seen, so he repressed it. He did a really good job, too. It didn't surface until he got to high school. Now, don't get me wrong when I say this, but between puberty and when he dropped Clockwerk into a volcano, Sly was a prick."

He waited patiently for me to stop choking, then continued, "I know, hard to believe, isn't it? Especially now. High school was the worst time for him because not only did he have all that anger and pain to deal with along with being a teenager, but he was pretty much trapped at the orphanage and unable to do anything about it. The second he turned eighteen he wanted to dive headfirst into the underground and find the Fiendish Five. I never thought he'd forgive me when I kept him from doing that."

"So what did you guys do?" I asked, drawn in.

"Well, things were a lot different then, you have to understand. First off, I didn't do fieldwork. At all. Second, Murray had never hit anyone in his life, he was the getaway driver. And aside from some impressive climbing skills, Sly didn't know how to be a thief. We spent eight months becoming a team. I'd say, on the whole, six of those months we were at each other's throats."

"I cannot imagine you guys fighting." I said, dropping my head on the wooden surface in front of me, padded by several inches of blueprints. "It hurts my head to imagine it."

"Sure you can. Remember back in Australia, when we were trying to figure out what to do about Carmelita and Sly snapped at Murray? They mutually diffused that situation, but imagine they hadn't. Now add me, multiply that by several hundred and cram it into a one-room apartment over a Laundromat and you have a rough idea of those eight months."

It physically pained me to imagine that, so I pictured a field of pretty flowers instead.

"We pulled a few jobs to work out the kinks and that's where we came across Carmelita for the first time, before she was even an Inspector. Our first step to getting to the Fiendish Five was actually to steal the file the police had on Sly from her office. We found the location of only one, by the name of Raleigh, but through him found another, Muggshot. We went from Muggshot to the voodoo priestess, yes, I'm serious, Mz. Ruby, and from her to the Panda King, stealing their shares of the Thievius Raccoonus along the way. We finally learned Clockwerk's location from the Panda King.

"Clockwerk had a lair in the heart of a volcano. Inspector Fox had gotten there before us and I hacked her out of a gas chamber, after which she helped Sly take down Clockwerk."

"After which was the infamous ten-second head-start," I chimed in with a grin.

Bentley laughed, "Oh, it certainly was infamous. I got months of entertainment from the emails flying around Interpol about that little incident."

"And things got better after that?" I asked, curious what had happened to turn them into the gang I knew and loved.

"They did, but it was a process. I kept scheduling heists because I knew leaving Sly with only his thoughts would be a terrible idea and Murray was just starting to gain confidence. Sly had some serious issues with closure. He'd hung on to that idea of reclaiming the Thievius Raccoonus and avenging his father like a life preserver and he had absolutely no idea what to do with himself once he reached his goal. The anger left after a couple of weeks, but he was depressed for a while. The reason the lot of us are so close now is probably because we're all trying to make up for when we couldn't stand each other, especially Sly. The only time he ever seemed to get any better was on a job. I'll never forget when he asked us to go to his father's grave with him."

I felt like my perception of the gang had been stripped away and rearranged all weird. They were still the same people I knew, but there was more to them. Murray had gone from being an utter coward and klutz to "The Murray". Sly had been one of the few able to walk away from a quest for revenge. And Bentley had held them all together with a subtle tenacity that was nothing short of an art form.

"I'm glad I met you guys when I did." I said with complete honesty.

That cause Bentley to start laughing again, "And not one second sooner? I can just imagine if we'd met a few years earlier. You and Sly would have killed each other within an hour."

"What are you two talking about?"

The question was overlaid with a yawn, originating from the doorway. Bentley and I both turned to behold Sly, bed hair in direct rebellion against gravity, eyes still glazed with sleep, wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday, having evidently not bothered to change.

I reflected on the story I'd just been told, applied it to the person in front of me, and was faced with two choices. I chose to laugh.

* * *

Several weeks later we were nearing the end of August and Sly, Murray, the Guru, and I were huddled in the kitchen, peering warily into Bentley's workspace, from whence came the sounds of tearing paper, the squeak of an over-abused marker, and growls of frustration.

"How long has he been in there?" Sly asked with reluctant awe.

"He was in there when I went to bed last night. Given how much coffee he's been through," I peered into the half-empty bag of beans, "I'd say he hasn't moved."

The Guru mumbled something, peering warily around the door frame.

"I agree, Master. He might be getting a little obsessed."

"Just a little?" I asked as a scrunched up blueprint rolled plaintively out into the hall. "I'm thinking this is bordering on 'Intervention' levels."

"I think you might be right," Sly said, poking his head into Bentley's workspace and then immediately pulling back to dodge the RC chopper that had been doing laps of the room on and off for the last few hours.

Just as we were putting the finer points on our plan for Intervention, a loud, heavy sigh and a thud came from the next room. A quick glance revealed Bentley unmoving, forehead resting against the many and varied blueprints he'd been working on.

A mini paper-rock-scissors tournament sent me into the room, stepping as lightly as possible. "Bentley? Something wrong?" I called softly in case he hadn't simply passed out from stress.

"These blueprints," he raised and dropped a hand on them in indication, not lifting his head, "They're impossible."

I edged around him as though he were a live landmine and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, they were the blueprints to Dr. M's fortress, drawn over with marker several dozen times in comments and planning. "What makes you say that?"

Bentley took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and replaced them, "I've been over every inch of these blueprints and have come to the conclusion that, with our current skill set, there's no way we can get in to the vault."

"Okay…" I said slowly, sitting on a nearby stood, "So, what do we need?"

He rubbed his forehead, "An RC specialist. No, don't look at me like that, I'm not shortchanging myself, I'm serious. My skills in radio control come from a simple hobby, we need someone who has mechanical and piloting skills specialized for it."

"Well, okay," I said, "You think you can find one?"

Bentley turned to look at me and we had a brief moment of silent communication. He didn't look like he wanted to bring someone new onto the team any more than I did. The Guru was one thing, he'd looked after Murray when he needed it, but someone totally unrelated to the gang joining up for the sole purpose of getting a cut of the loot? It made me a little nervous and he seemed to feel the same. But we needed to get Sly into the Cooper vault. So it was worth it.

He turned to his computer, "I'm sure I can, but it may take some time. I'm not bringing just anyone onto the gang."

"No one wants you to," Sly said, leaning against the doorway, looking like he knew what we were thinking and disapproved, but also didn't want to give up the opportunity to get into his family's vault, understandably.

Bentley nodded, "I need to start stalking the RC chatrooms and find out just who knows what they're talking about- Hey!"

I skipped away, holding his laptop, "Not until you sleep!"

He came after me, "Get back here!"

"Keep away from Bentley!"

* * *

Bentley spent the next week integrating himself into the various RC chat rooms and forums on the internet. He found plenty of people who specialized in one form or another of RC vehicles, but he needed someone a little more flexible than that, so he started searching for RC specialists who were also members on ThiefNet.

Finally, just when the rest of the gang and I were plotting another intervention, he found someone.

"Check out these schematics!" He was practically drooling on his laptop keyboard, "They're genius!"

I stared blankly at said schematics and looked over at Sly, who shook his head as if to say 'just go with it'.

"You think we found our guy, Bentley?" The raccoon asked.

"I'm not sure. Let me log into the chat room and see if they're online." A few keystrokes later, he was in and a greeting popped up.

"'Air_Heart_Babe'?" I asked, looking at the pink text, "'Penelope'… are we getting another girl?"

"Don't worry, Jinx, you're still our favorite."

I casually reached over and punched him in the stomach. It wasn't that I was against the idea of having another girl on the team, really. I mean, sure, there was that cool feeling of being the only girl in the Cooper gang and I wasn't going to pretend there wasn't, but I also wasn't shallow enough to get upset over another one joining. Besides, the way Bentley was salivating as he typed, it looked like he'd finally found someone who could keep up with him intellectually, which was just short of a miracle.

Of course, there was always a catch.

"We have to win a dog-fighting tournament to prove we're better than her boss?" I asked, "Does anyone here even know how to fly a plane?"

"Give me an hour and I'll have a pilot's license."

"Having a pilot's license does not mean you can magically do everything the license says!" I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation.

"It can't be _that_ hard."

"Bentley, help."

"The ACEs Tournament in which we'll be competing takes place in the last week of September." He said, consulting the internet, "We have little more than a month to get a plane and get everything prepared. It would actually be easier for me to create a virtual trainer than for Sly to take traditional classes."

"_What?_"

"Told you."

"Besides," Bentley said, readjusting his glasses, "Traditional classes don't teach you in a biplane equipped with a small turret and a rear gunner." Here he looked pointedly at me. It took a second for me to understand what he was implying.

"NO."

* * *

"Jinx-"

"No."

"You have to come out sometime."

"No I don't."

I had retreated under my bed with my fluffiest pillow, a flashlight, and a book to revel in my cowardice. Sly was determined not to let me do so, much to my chagrin. The rest of the gang had been no help, Bentley had simply returned to his chat, Murray pretended to be taking a nap, and the Guru said something about building character.

"Jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinx…"

I looked over and shone the light directly into Sly's eyes.

He leapt back automatically, narrowly avoiding hitting his head, "Not cool!"

I sighed, noted my page number, and closed my book. I was scared of heights. Well, not really, I was scared of falling, not flying. Petrified, really. But if I couldn't do this, how could I claim to really be a part of the gang? They'd all overcome something much greater. When looking at that, my little tantrum seemed really silly.

Growing up is no fun. But maybe I could fix that…

I pulled myself halfway out from under the bed, looking up at Sly, who was still rubbing his eyes.

"I'll be your tail gunner if you let me teach you how to swim."

He blinked, grimaced hard, thought about it, then extended a hand, "Deal."

I took it.

* * *

"How you doing back there, Jinx?"

"Oh, I'm… fine… I'm _just_… peachy."

"Remember, Kaia, deep breaths…"

"I said I'm fine!"

"Maybe you should open your eyes, then."

It was six weeks later. We were on our first practice flight, heading for Holland in three days, much to the surprise of Penelope, who hadn't thought we were serious, but seemed pleased nonetheless. This chick better be worth it…

"Jinx, I have enough gas to keep us airborne for hours. But we can land just as soon as you hit those targets."

I was currently hunched over as much as possible in my small seat in the tail of the plane, resting my forehead on the top of the turret I had in a death grip. Sly and I both had used Bentley's virtual trainer (I hadn't thought he was actually going to make that until he took my book away and told me to get to work), but that didn't quite capture the reality of flying three hundred feet above the blessed earth in an open-air cockpit with only a flimsy leather seatbelt and a parachute which probably wouldn't have time to deploy before you went SPLAT.

I opened my eyes the barest crack, though they were protected by Ahanu's goggles, and peered down. I felt at once like I was falling and like the ground was getting farther away. I snapped my eyes back shut, "Vertigo…"

"Maybe, we should see if I can do it-"

"No," I interrupted, forcing my eyes open again and aiming at the fluorescent orange balloons bobbing pleasantly in the dawn sunlight, "I can do it."

In the end, the single stupid thing that calmed me down was that the tail of the red scarf Sly wore blew over the back of his seat and draped itself on my shoulder. After that and a few deeps breaths, I took aim and, in three short bursts of fire, sent thick orange scraps fluttering toward the ground.

Sly whooped and probably would have done a flip or some other nonsense if I hadn't threatened to steal his hat and chuck it into the Seine River if he did.

When we landed, I unceremoniously unbuckled my seatbelt, clambered out of the plane, and laid down on the runway.

"Land…"

Over the next few days, we did the same thing every morning, increasing our airtime and the amount of targets I had to hit exponentially every day. I'm not going to say that this caused me to get over my fear of heights, because that would be a dirty, dirty lie, but I got to where I didn't feel like throwing up at the sight of the plane, at least.

Then it was time for the ACEs tournament.

* * *

And there we go, one more chapter for you lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you thought!


	9. The One With The Mingling

Who has two thumbs and totally forgot to post this chapter last night?

_This girl_.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"I have to say," I smiled up at the building in front of us, "This is already my favorite operation."

"Would that be because we're staying in a place with actual beds, or because we actually got invited?" Sly asked as he handed me my luggage from the trunk of the car.

I shrugged, "Both. And I don't have to fit my life into a tiny little backpack." I patted my new rolling suitcase affectionately.

He seemed just short of rolling his eyes, "We're only going to be here for a couple of days."

"Sly, I have two parachutes in this bag. Do not make me waste one in smothering you in your sleep."

Before the slightly offended raccoon could reply, a voice hailed us from the doorway of the large hotel, "About time you two got here!"

I grinned at Bentley, "Sly gave the driver bad directions."

"I did _not_. You don't even speak Dutch, how would you know?"

"I'm pretty sure that particular hand gesture is universal."

"All right, you two, come on." Bentley said, though he rolled his eyes, "Our room is this way."

* * *

"Fluffy bed!" I launched myself at the bed nearest the AC and almost went flying into the wall when it bounced. I got a truly amazing amount of air time. "There's chocolates on the pillows!"

"Hey, Jinx, think fast!"

I looked up just in time to be smashed in the face with a pillow.

Bentley shook his head, "Six year olds. I work with six year olds."

"That's not nice, Bentley. I like to think of myself as at least seven!"

"If we can begin," He ignored my last comment, rolling himself over to the table in front of the balcony windows, and tossing a paper-wrapped package to both me and Sly. "There're your disguises. Time to mingle."

The feeling of the beginning of a job is a bit like the feeling of getting in line to ride a roller coaster, you're excited and impatient, but also wary because you're starting to remember that half the fun of it is the direct defiance of your self-preservation instincts.

"Why exactly are we mingling, Bentley?" I asked, casting aside my longer, more comfortable coat in favor of the aviator jacket provided and the pale gold silk scarf.

"You and Sly are the faces of our team in this competition, they'll be looking to size you up. The less focus on the rest of us the better, we need to be as under the radar as possible."

"So we're bait."

"Exactly. Besides, if we're going to succeed in this year's ACEs competition, we're going to need to know who we're fighting against."

"What?" Sly was in the middle of pulling on his own jacket when that comment registered, "They keep the flight roster a secret?"

"Correct. In years past competitors would go out at night and sabotage each other's planes in preparation for the next day's dogfight." Bentley explained.

"I get it, so now they keep the lineup a secret so no one knows who to mess with."

"Precisely." He turned to look at us gravely, "Look guys, you're a good team, but we've only got one plane and you'll be up there against dozens of bogeys."

"Great, we're flying against saboteurs, outnumbered thirty to one, and the flight roster is a secret. Awesome." I wrestled with my scarf in agitation.

"Normally, I'd makes some sarcastic comment about how 'overwhelmed I am by your confidence in me'… but those are some pretty grim odds." Sly admitted, before giving his traditional grin. "And well, you know, I'm always up for some _sabotage_."

"Glad to hear it," Bentley smirked, adjusting his headset and situating himself at the binocucom station, "Now, the roster is kept secret from the pilots, but not from the event staff."

"Do we have a mole on the inside?"

"Our 'friend' Dimitri, has been hired to give color commentary during the dogfights... he'll know where the roster's hidden. Scout around for him in the hotel lobby, but _be careful_. If you start a fight with the other competitors, we'll be thrown out of the competition."

"Sure," Sly drawled, "We all play nice until tomorrow, then we blow each other to bits at three hundred feet."

"That's about ten times what it takes to kill you if you fall." I commented, pulling my ever-growing hair into a set of low pigtails so I could tug on my flight cap.

"Thanks for that, Jinx. Thanks a lot."

I grinned, hung my goggles around my neck, and followed him out into the lobby.

* * *

"Ah," I inhaled and smiled, "The smell of hot food. Wonderful."

Sly rolled his eyes, smiling, and tapped my head to get my attention, "Don't get distracted. Some of these people are going to be trying to shoot us down tomorrow."

"Always a killjoy," I sighed, ignoring his protest, "So, where's Dimitri?" Sly nodded in the direction of the bar and I followed his gaze to a huge purple lizard knocking back the liquor like it was water, "What is he _wearing_? That's horrific."

"Don't tell him that," Sly warned, "I did and he tried to kill me."

"Great, we're going to get crucial information from a sleazy lizard who speaks only bad slang, has the fashion sense of a colorblind toadstool and apparently a drinking problem. There's no way this could possibly go wrong."

"That's the spirit!" Sly said, striding down the stairs and making me have to half-jog in order to catch up to him. Stupid long legs when he's not slinking around in the shadows…

By the time we reached Dimitri, he'd lit a cigarette and had his own personal black cloud orbiting his head.

"Dimitri," Sly took the lead immediately. It must be a guy thing to get that self-satisfied smirk whenever you talk to someone you've recently beaten to a pulp, "Fancy seeing you here. I never pegged you as a flyboy."

"Like a dance floor with many lights, I have many profiles, dig?" Dimitri said as though he were addressing a crowd of adoring fans rather than a mostly-empty room, "Do not even _try_ to understand the silky enigma of Dimitri."

I coughed, half from the secondhand smoke and half to cover my incredulous laughter. It was like this guy learned English by listening to bad rap and pop music. Unfortunately, my cough drew his attention.

"Ah, what has appeared before me like disco shine on the dance floor?" The tall lizard ran a hand through his hair in a way that he probably thought made him look devastatingly handsome, but really just caused me to wonder if he had showered in the last month because of the massive amount of light his hair greasily reflected. Before I could really react, he'd grabbed my hand, "Do not try and resist Dimitri; the magnets, they attract."

It took me a second to realize that he was hitting on me. My expression became that of the unsuspecting person confronted with the smell of curdled milk and I barely had time to yank my hand away before he could plant a kiss on it. Ewwww… there was grease residue on my hand!

I spotted a pint of something undoubtedly alcoholic nearby and dunked my violated hand into it, hoping the cleansing properties of alcohol still applied. I turned to look at Sly, who appeared torn between hysterical laughter, and the urge I shared to punch Dimitri in the face.

He snapped his fingers in front of Dimitri's face. The large lizard flinched and turned to regard Sly irritably. Apparently he didn't like being reminded of the last time they'd met in Paris. Excellent.

"Bentley seemed to think you had a copy of the ACEs flight lineup." Sly said, getting back to business, "That true?"

Dimitri huffed and crossed his arms. "And why should I talk to a two-bit, rooty-poot, cracker box like you? Question mark in bold- why?"

Sly's slightly threatening smile never wavered, but his eyes narrowed, making it a bit more intimidating, "You wouldn't have bothered showing up if you didn't want to talk, so… spill it."

"I know, but to talk is like sitting on electric chair," the forger knocked back another glass of what had to be hard liquor, "The Baron has eye. Eyes and ears. Ears and fists! Dimitri will be discovered, and then the jig is pinched!"

I exchanged looks with Sly, raising an eyebrow. He sighed to himself in something like resignation, and turned his gaze back to our 'informant'. "Come on now, Dimitri. A man like you can deal with this Black Baron. You've got the best fashion sense of anyone I know." He seemed in between laughing and choking on the words.

"Le fashion? Style? You… you're right. If I can outdress him I can certainly _outsmart_ him! All is told through clothes." At that statement, I had to resist the urge to give the most disbelieving glance in the world. This was a giant purple iguana wearing a horrid olive suit over a red shirt and speaking as though he believed himself the god of good sense. "Okay, I'll talk of flight lineup if you agree to owe Dimitri… a favor, which I will collect in a few months of time."

That took Sly by surprise, "A favor?"

"This no small-time favor like: 'Will you water my fish, or feed my plant?' No way, bro! This old school Mafia blood-pact favor, like in movies, big time!"

I was beginning to question Bentley's choice in believing Dimitri to be a good informant, this guy was at least halfway in the deep end and seemed to be enjoying his position.

Sly apparently thought the same, since he did his best to weasel out of promising. "Would a few coins maybe change your mind? I find it's a lot easier to talk when I'm 'rich'."

"Bribe money? Bling? Cash will not help me get done what needs getting done. I need gang of thieves, not federal reserve."

What on Earth couldn't be accomplished with money? I opened my mouth to voice that thought, but Sly cut me off.

"No dice. I'm not in the habit of racking up debts and I don't plan to start now."

"'No dice', 'no debts', no ACEs flight lineup! The choice is yours… take debt and flight roster, otherwise walk away with nothing."

Well crap, not only was it next to impossible to understand him, but he was one of those people who had a response no matter what was said. Wonderful.

I was slightly surprised to find Sly looking at me, one eyebrow raised. Was… was he asking my permission? Why would he do that? He was the leader, being part of the gang meant being able to follow his lead when he inevitably deviated from the plan Bentley laid out.

I shrugged, showing my relative neutrality. Dimitri seemed immovable on the subject. It was obvious he already had something in mind, but just didn't feel like telling us. I knew that whatever it was, we'd have to do it for the sake of the gang's reputation, but what choice did we really have?

"Alright, Dimitri. You hook me up with the flight roster and we'll owe you one."

The iguana looked positively ecstatic, "Done! The bargain, she is struck! To find flight roster, look behind one of the tacky paintings in Black Baron's hangar. It's hidden in secret safe."

"Art decryption lock, huh?" Sly eyes flicked up to our hotel room, "I know just the guy for the job."

"Stand cool! Here comes Big Cheese!"

I followed the attention of the room to the lobby entrance, where a broad-shouldered mole came into view. Large goggles covered his eyes and an even bigger mustache hid his face. He was sharply dressed and carried himself with a self-assured authority that the others in the room instinctively responded to.

"I bid you all a most flamboyant welcome my esteemed comrades of the skies!" He said loudly, spreading his arms. "Welcome, _welcome_ to another year of the ACEs competition. We've got teams here from across the globe: Canada, Belgium, Ecuador, Iceland, Korea, and many, many more! Not the least of which is last year's deadly runner-up, Team Muggshot!"

"This year we're gonna drill you jokers fulla holes!" Shouted an oversized bulldog from the upstairs balcony.

It took Sly stiffening at my side to remember where I'd heard that name before. Muggshot was one of the Fiendish Five who Sly defeated three years back, one of the people who'd broken into his house when he was eight and killed his father.

There wasn't anything I could say, though I racked my brain for something, anything. Instead I took a half-step to my right, so our shoulders brushed. It wasn't much, but I wanted to let him know I was there for him.

I was _not_ expecting for his gloved hand to steal into mine and give it a brief, gentle squeeze. I _think_ that was his way of saying he knew what I was trying to do and thanking me for it, but I really couldn't say for sure.

The Baron was speaking again, "Now, we all know that in years past, some teams have engaged in a little _good natured_ late night hi-jinx."

"Like when Team Canada stole Ecuador's parachutes." Shouted one of the competitors.

"Or when Team Iceland sawed the landing gear off Korea's planes!" That guy sounded more than a little high.

"Or when Portugal put rat poison in Team Muggshot's coffee machine!"

"This all sounds so very 'good natured'," I said satirically out of the corner of my mouth.

"I don't know, that last one was practically a public service." He sounded a little bitter, but otherwise fine, which made me all the more confused. That didn't line up with what Bentley had told me at all, but if he really was upset, why couldn't I tell? Did I really even know him at all?

His hand was warm and heavy in mine.

"Yes, yes, that was all so _very_ funny, but no more!" The Baron seemed far from amused as he rose to his fullest height and clenched his fists at his sides, "You know the rules, no one, absolutely _no _one, is to leave the hotel after sunset. If my guards catch you outside, you will be beaten to within an inch of your life." I was pretty sure that wasn't legal, "No exceptions! This is will be a _fair_ competition!"

The high guy spoke up again, "Same as last year and the year before, I've got the scars to prove it!"

The Black Baron ignored him, "I bid you all an exuberant and exaggerated farewell, pilots… Tonight, sleep like geese. And tomorrow, soar like eagles! Ha-ha! What-what!" He turned and sauntered outside to the sound of the obligatory laughter.

We stood there for a couple of seconds until Bentley's voice came over the binocucom and seemed to break the spell, "They don't lock the front door to the hotel, this isn't a jail. But you heard the Baron. Once outside, things will get dangerous."

Our hands separated so Sly could activate his mic, "Don't worry so much, pal. Besides, you know how much I love a little danger." I did not miss that his gaze flashed up to the balcony, but Muggshot had disappeared.

"Very funny, Sly. Be careful. The Baron has a _ton_ of guards on duty and it's a long way up to his castle on the hill. Kaia, head back up to the Safehouse. This is going to be a long night and I'll be out for most of it, I need someone manning the binocucom station."

"You got it, Bentley. I'm on my way." I gave one last glance to Sly, who was making his way toward the front door, then headed upstairs.

* * *

A few hours later, I was staying awake with the help of a very friendly cup of coffee as Bentley rigged up the old slide machine. I asked him why he'd never switched to Power Point and he looked at me like I'd just take away his favorite toy, so I shut up and sat back, ignoring the way my hand still seemed to tingle with static electricity.

"Okay guys, according to the ACEs flight roster, we'll be flying against Team Iceland and Team Belgium in tomorrow's semi-final round. As you're all aware, we've only got a single plane, while our opponents will be flying _fifteen_ apiece."

"Thirty to one odds," I stirred my coffee needlessly, "Swell."

"Exactly. In order to give ourselves a fighting chance, we'll need to pit these two teams against each other. First, Murray and Kaia will paddle through the sewers to gain access to a hotel vent that leads to Team Iceland's hotel room."

"They have a vent to the _sewers_ in their hotel room?"

"Kaia?"

"Yes?"

"Quiet."

I threw a sugar cube at him.

"Steal one of their trademark Viking helmets and sneak over to Team Belgium's hangar. Vandalize one of their planes and plant the helmet to frame Team Iceland for the damage. Next, Murray and I will steal one of Team Belgium's monogrammed handkerchiefs. Meanwhile the Guru will break into Team Iceland's supply truck carrying their lucky ice sculpture. Sly will steal the art and place the handkerchief insinuating Team Belgium for the crime!" Bentley sounded deliriously excited about his plan, "Get it? We frame _both_ teams so they'll be gunning for each other and _not_ Sly and Kaia in the semifinals. All the while I'll be setting up some defenses around the Team Cooper hangar. You never know when one of the other teams will come looking to do us some harm."

* * *

"How come you never have to go through the smelly places?" I grumbled, eyeing the steaming manhole with distaste "And if you say that your nose is more sensitive than mine, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

Sly grinned, lounging on the balcony railing, "Alright, I won't say it. Here they come." He vaulted over the railing and jogged up to Bentley and Murray, who had just exited the hotel, and I followed.

Bentley handed off the handkerchief to Sly and turned to Murray and I as the raccoon ran off, "It looks like hard-partying Team Iceland has already gone to sleep. Time to 'borrow' one of their Viking helmets."

"Why do you need me?" Murray asked with genuine confusion, "Just have Kaia pick the lock to the door and steal the thing."

"You have much more faith in my lock-picking abilities than I do," I pointed out with amusement and chagrin.

"This is a delicate business," Bentley explained, "We're trying to frame Team Iceland for a crime they haven't committed. If there's any evidence of their door being forced, people might believe they're innocent."

"Man, you've gotten devious over the years!" Murray said.

"Slytherin…" I sing-songed.

"So, uh, how are we supposed to get inside?"

"We've scrounged a raft and inflated it down there," the three of us shared an apprehensive look at the manhole, "But be careful, other pilots have cause trouble down there in the past and the Baron's sure to have set up some security."

"I get to row a boat? Nautical!"

I sighed as Murray jumped into the sewers, turning to Bentley, "If I don't return, I blame you."

"Yes, and we'll have a touching moment of silence in your honor. Get going."

* * *

"This isn't a sewer." I said into my mic as I clambered out of the boat and onto the small dock, "This is some kind of medieval dungeon. And this stuff has got to be toxic waste."

"Yeah, yeah. Just make your way to the hotel ventilation system. Murray, you stay and guard the boat."

"You got it, little buddy!"

"Oh great," I said, looking at the task before me. "Swirling pinwheels of death." I jumped on one and almost fell off, "And they're slippery. Fan_tastic_!"

I made my way across precariously balanced platforms until I found a ladder leading me into the ventilation shaft, which Bentley guided me through quietly.

"Alright, you're almost there. Be _careful_ not to wake these guys up. They're a paranoid group and have probably set up some crude burglar alarms."

"You got it." I hissed, pulling myself out of the ventilation shaft and into the room. I almost ran right into a card house and carefully stepped around it, being wary of the passed out moose on the bed and the couch nearby.

I was midway through the room when I heard voices in the hall and froze.

"… keys to the room."

"Uh…" Here there was incomprehensible mumbling, "Don't you have 'em?"

I crept away from the door. If they managed to get in, it would be better for me to have a place to hide than to be standing out in the open.

"No! You're the responsible one. Let's just bang on the door." I almost dove for cover right then.

"No way, man! Everyone in there is asleep and I'm not gonna wake 'em up. Those guys are gonna shoot at _us_ tomorrow if we do that." Heheh, actually…

"Fine! We'll just go down to the front desk for a spare, and you can forget about me being your wingman tomorrow…"

As their voices faded, I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to step lightly over the thin ropes strung across the hall, held up precariously by teetering cans that would make quite the racket were the air to blow the wrong way.

I finally found the helmet just sitting conveniently in the open. After checking to make sure it wasn't rigged to a foghorn or something, I tucked it into my backpack and made my way slowly back to the ventilation shaft, not daring to do much more than breathe until I was safely back in the sewers.

"Bentley, I got the helmet."

"Nice work! Head back to Murray and the raft."

Carefully making my way back through the gauntlet of unnecessary complexity, I found Murray on the opposite side of the dock from before.

"Sorry pal, the vent gates changed position, we need to escape through another tunnel, but fear not! 'The Murray' has an unnatural sense of direction."

I sighed and settled in to the raft for a long ride.

* * *

"_… Jinx._"

I was really comfy, which was weird, considering I seemed to be slumped in a chair and resting my head on my arms. Oh… my neck was going to hurt when I moved.

"_Jinx… come on, it's time to wake up._"

I cracked my eyes open and saw the binocucom station, flickering with Sly's amused face in the lower right hand corner. Then I realized what had happened and sat straight up, immediately wincing and grabbing my neck. Yeah, that hurt.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Not that long." Bentley showed up on the screen as well, "But it's time for the ACEs semifinals and we need you by the hangar."

"Oh yes, not that long," I grumbled, pulling on my boots, winding my scarf around my neck and glancing at the clock, "Just _six hours!_ You should have woken me up, guys!" Embarrassed did not even begin to cover what I was feeling right then. Way to be part of the gang, falling asleep on the job.

"_But it was so entertaining! Did you know you talk in your sleep?_"

I groaned, heading outside and vaulting off the balcony, "Yes, I've been told that before, but considering that in that instance I asked for orange juice and my dream was about a flaming skeleton riding a motorcycle, I wouldn't put too much stock in whatever you heard. I'm on my way."

"_You were speaking fluent Russian._"

"... I don't know Russian."

"_Apparently you do. And I'm insulted._"

"I'm not going to ask what I said."

"_Also flattered._"

"Still not asking."

I got to the Cooper hangar in just a few minutes and handed Bentley a manila envelope.

"What's this?"

"My will. I trust you to execute it in the event of my untimely demise."

"Such lack of faith." Sly said from over by the ramp, where the plane was getting ready to be raised into position, "Get over here, we've got a competition to win!"

* * *

And that's a wrap! I don't have a lot of faith in my ability to write Dimitri, so let me know if I failed as hard as I think I did.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought and be sure to check out the blog!


	10. The One With The Dogfight

HEY GUYS! Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!

I do have something to say right quick before we get in to the chapter- I've recently gotten several messages from people asking me to check out their Sly Cooper fanfictions. I am ridiculously flattered you thought of me, but I make it a point not to read fanfictions for the fandom I'm currently writing for and, while Sly 4 may not be out yet, I _am_ working on a Sly Cooper project at the moment (and about five Supernatural projects, and school, and work, and avoiding ever talking to my father, etc...), so I'm going to have to reluctantly decline. Once I'm done, I'll try to remember everyone who asked and check out their stuff, but it might be a while.

Okay, obligatory stuff over, on with the chapter!

* * *

"I cannot believe that we survived that." I said in shell-shocked amazement, climbing stiffly out of the gunner's seat in the tail of our plane.

"Yeah, I was worried for a second, but then you got really vicious and tore through those last five planes. What was that all about?"

I smirked, wringing the high altitude condensation out of my scarf. "I just got mad when Dimitri started trying to sell hot dogs and tickets while we were fighting for our lives."

"Well, at least we know to just make you mad before the finals and we'll have this tournament in the bag," Bentley drawled, checking over the plane, "And we won't have to do too many repairs before tomorrow. Good piloting, Sly."

"I aim to please."

"In the mean time," Bentley waved us into the control room where we found the Guru, Murray, and the familiar old slideshow projector, "Time for round two of sabotage."

I tossed my jacket and scarf over the back of my chair to dry and sat heavily, removing my cap and running a hand through my damp hair.

"Thanks to Sly and Kaia's teamwork, we're in the ACEs finals! Our opponents: Team Muggshot, and Team Black Baron." I stole a glance at Sly. His face was unreadable, "The rules in the finals are a bit different than normal. Whoever takes down the defending champ gets the title. Hear that, guys? It's all about taking out the Baron. Our only real competition will be Muggshot himself."

"Can he even fit in a plane?" I asked aloud as a picture of him appeared.

"He certainly can, which is why we need to remove him from the competition. Here's the plan: I'll challenge him to a fist fight outside. Sly, you find and lure Inspector Fox to the same place. When they meet, the sparks are sure to fly! With some luck, the big guy will get carted off to jail and we'll have clear skies for the final."

"Excellent." Sly said with a moderately creepy grin.

"However, the Baron won't be so easy to deal with. He commands a massive team of fliers and has been known to bring in a squad of blimp gunships when things look grim."

"Oh _that's_ fair."

"Well, considering he wrote the rules for the competition and didn't ban blimp interference, there's not a lot of grounds for complaint."

"On that note, why is it _always_ blimps?"

"_As I was saying_, the answer to our problem isn't obvious, although it is potent." The slideshow picture changed to a massive feral wolf that looked as though it could eat Muggshot for dinner and still have room for a late-night snack, "Behold _Lupus Gigantormous_. I'll drug the beast so that the Guru can ride it and take out some of the local guards who also serve as the Baron's pilots. Obviously, the fewer pilots we have to fly against, the better. Next, I'll hack into the Baron's aircraft control towers. If successful, I'll be able to intercept any message the Baron might send to his gunships. Alright team, we've got all night to prepare. If we take this thing, it'll mean more than a trophy. Penelope will be sure to join our gang. After her stellar work defending our hangar, I'm sure we'd all agree that she's a prime recruit."

"Well, that sounds like a fool-proof plan, Bentley. Except for one thing."

"Yes Kaia, I know, you want a job."

"Yes I do."

Two heavy nylon bags landed on the table in front of me. I recognized one and my eye twitched, "Seriously? Again?"

Sly shrugged, smirking, "What? I need a new paraglider."

"Do you also need," I checked the tag on the second bag, "Rocket boots? _Really_?"

"Hey you're the one that wanted something to do," Bentley pointed out, seeming smug.

"Yes, yes, fine. You guys go have all the fun, but I'm _so_ running up the room service bill back at the hotel."

* * *

After assembling the paraglider and the rocket boots with the dubious aid of the ThiefNet instruction booklets and ordering a hefty amount of room service, I stretched and glanced outside. It wasn't quite sunset yet, I could go for a quick walk.

I pulled on the knee-length coat I favored over my aviators' jacket and headed outside. I have to say, Holland is gorgeous. It's very green, and the stereotypical windmills scattered across the landscape were painted a deep red.

I was enjoying myself until someone fell into step with me.

"Did you plant a tracker on me when I wasn't looking?" I asked grumpily.

"Your paranoia is as unfounded as it is amusing." Kristian said, looking at me sidelong. "I just happen to be extremely lucky."

I gave a short laugh, "Sure, I believe that. That's completely logical, that is." My mind was racing. I had _nothing_ to offer him in distraction. There wasn't anything actually illegal going on here. I could turn in Dimitri, but I wouldn't because it would be seen as a double crossing of the Cooper gang. I wasn't going to do that.

Even if I was sorely tempted.

"So," He took a step nearer me and I found my back to a wall, "Have anything for me today or shall we get to know each other better in an interrogation cell?"

Oh, sweet merciful distant explosions, how I love thee, "Nothing in particular," And there, the whizz of a shock pistol bolt, "But it sounds like your partner could use some help." Ooh, gunshots! Happy day!

Inspector Garter grumbled something I refuse to immortalize in print and stepped away, "She's not my partner, she's a pain in the neck."

He reached to his belt and removed two weapons I had not seen him carrying until just then. I gaped at them, they were tonfa, an Oriental weapon similar to a nightstick. He fought with _those_?

He turned to leave, then gave me his trademark disconcerting smile, "Don't worry, I'm sure next time we speak, we'll have plenty of time to talk."

"I really hope not." I croaked out when he was already halfway down the street. I shook my head and turned on my mic, "Bentley, did you know Inspector Garter was here?"

"_He's _what_?_"

"Geez, Sly. Eavesdrop much?"

"I didn't know that, which is disconcerting. For me to not know, he must be off the grid completely. And that means he probably knows I'm looking."

"_I don't like this._"

"Neither do I, he's creepy!"

"Now that I know he's here, I can keep an eye on him. I'll use the RC chopper if I have to. Did he try to talk to you, Kaia?"

"Yeah, but when I pointed out the sound of explosions, he grudgingly went to go help Inspector Fox. He doesn't seem to like her much."

"Head back to the Safehouse. It's almost sunset anyway. We'll keep you appraised of things out here, but we're almost finished."

"You got it, Bentley."

* * *

Thanks to my nonexistent roll in the last set of jobs and the large amount of sleep I'd gotten the night before, I woke up before anyone else on the final day of the competition. After checking the clock and groaning at the fact that I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore, I tiptoed around the hotel room, getting ready for the day.

I headed downstairs in a foggy sleep haze to claim my breakfast, helping myself to a plentiful amount of fresh berries and a few of the small muffins that are always at those things.

I settled in with my fare and a glass of cran-grape juice and ate in silence for all of three minutes before I caught another entrance out of the corner of my eye. Aside from one or two others, who also kept to themselves, I was the only one in the lobby, so I noticed when the mouse walked in. She also noticed me and smiled, waving a bit shyly. I smiled back and pushed out the chair across from me so she could sit down.

"Nice to meet you, Penelope." I said as she came over and sat down, reaching across to shake her hand. I could see where Bentley's massive and poorly hidden crush came from, she was cute. She had a red bandana pulled over a long, blonde ponytail and was wearing a pair of coveralls and a yellow turtleneck. It took me by surprise that she seemed about my age, maybe a year or two older.

"Nice to meet you too, Kaia, right?" She and Bentley even had the same slight nasal tone to their voices. Ah, nerd love.

"That's right. Strawberries?"

We talked for a few minutes about this and that, just really getting a feel for each other, before she broached the subject of her approach, "I was just wondering if maybe you could tell me a little about your gang. I hadn't really expected you to take me up on my challenge, let alone to get into the finals. I doubt you'll beat the Black Baron, but you're definitely not wannabes, I'll give you that."

I had to tread lightly here. We needed her on the team, but she might just be fishing for information about what to expect from us in the finals so she could warn the Baron. I basically had to sell the team without giving any specifics. Wait- was she testing me?

I found the idea both exciting and offensive, "The Cooper gang is impressive, and I'm not saying that out of vanity. As a ThiefNet member, I'm sure you know about their record."

"Yeah, I did my research," She nodded, "But it's hard to sort out rumor from fact."

"Well, why don't you tell me a rumor and I'll tell you if it's true?"

"Okay, umm…" She thought it over for a minute, "The Interpol agent on your case has booked every other criminal she's been sent after except you guys?"

"True. Good old Carmelita, poor thing hates us. I think she's got a thing for Sly, though."

Penelope seemed a little surprised, "Okay, what about the one where they kidnapped you and you later joined up willingly?"

"Also true. Don't say Stockholm Syndrome, I've heard it too many times. Just between you and me, I think they have a touch of Lima Syndrome."

She tilted her head to the side, "'Lima Syndrome'?"

"Google it." I suggested. "The guys are magnetic. Murray is a little thick, but he's sweet, he's our muscle. Sly's the thief and he would readily describe himself as a 'loveable scoundrel' and that's unfortunately not too far from the truth. The Guru is… complicated, but he's a nice old guy. I'm the auxiliary and you know our tech, Bentley. You two will get along fine."

She smiled, "You're talking like I've already joined up."

I couldn't help grinning back, "Hey, I've got a good feeling about the finals, that's all."

"Speaking of which," She consulted her watch, "I've got to get going, the Baron needs me." She stood and held out her hand again, "It was good talking to you."

"You too. See you in the winner's circle!"

She laughed and waved, walking out. I checked my own watch, blanched, shoveled the rest of my food in my mouth and jogged upstairs.

* * *

"Okay, I take back the nice things I said about this place," I was lounging on one of the beds with Sly as Bentley set up the final slideshow. "It'd be nice for a vacation and everything, but I feel more like I'm being lazy than like we're on an actual job."

Sly laughed and gave me a shove, "There you go, I was waiting for that to kick in."

I shoved him back and before long we were trying to beat each other senseless with pillows.

Bentley won the impromptu pillow fight when he sank a dart in each of our weapons and caused feathers to explode everywhere. "We're ready to begin."

"Thanks to our combined efforts, we're now ready for the final round of the ACEs dogfighting competition. Put on your helmets, because it's time for Operation: Turbo Dominant Eagle."

"'Turbo Dominant Eagle'?"

"Elegant, isn't it? In a few hours, Team Iceland and Team Belgium will be fighting it out in the B-Champs round. This will be the perfect cover for step one of my plan. Sly, use the catapult and your paraglider to get access to the local gunships. Plant some tracking devices, then meet up with Kaia at the team hangar and suit up for the finals."

"Who needs self-preservation anyway?" I asked rhetorically, waving around a feather like an miniature flag.

"Murray," Bentley continued, "You're up next. Use the rowboat to pull down the aircraft communication antenna. With it out of commission, the Baron will have to use an unscrambled radio frequency to call in the gunships for backup. If that happens, I'll be ready with our 'secret weapon' and with the tracking devices installed, I'll be guaranteed not to miss."

"Death to the blimps!"

"Kaia…"

"Shutting up."

"In the end, though, it'll be up to Sly and Kaia. This is a sudden death competition, the first team to take out last year's champ wins. That's _if_ the Baron doesn't take out all the competition first."

* * *

"You ready for this, Jinx?"

I crushed a peppermint between my teeth and exhaled, "As ready as I'm ever going to be." I replied, tightening the chin strap on my cap.

"Hey, if you're not up to it, I can work with the mini turret up front-"

I slugged him in the shoulder. "As if I'd quit this late in the game. Come on, flyboy, let's go shoot down a Baron." He grinned in response and we headed to our plane and strapped ourselves in.

He started the engine and Bentley yelled up at us, "This is it, eye of the tiger! Look for the Black Baron! Take him out and this competition is all over! … and _go easy_ on the throttle, it's been sticking lately!"

"Quit worrying!" Sly shouted and the plane dipped down the ramp and I tightened my grip on my little turret, "We'll see you in the winner's circle!"

And then it was all the whining of aircraft engines and the whistle of bullets through the air. The blur of blues, green, and reds that made up the surrounding landscape was broken occasionally by bursts of orange, yellow, and black.

Sly dipped and weaved through the planes as though he'd been flying his whole life, locating the Black Baron and sliding in front of him easily, "Let him have it, Jinx!"

I lined up my sights. The Baron was an amazing flyer, he somehow managed to keep an eye on all the planes around him and slip through the hail of bullets unscathed. But I wasn't aiming for the body of his plane, I was aiming for the wings and the tail. I wanted to force him to land, not blow him to smithereens. Something told me Penelope wouldn't appreciate that.

I'd put a fair amount of holes in his plane when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw two blimps headed our way. I'd stiffened up when I finally paid attention to my binocucom earpiece and heard Bentley's voice.

"Sorry, Baron. You'll have to fight fair this year."

"**What? Who is this, how did you get this frequency?**"

A windmill blade arced across the field and crashed into the two blimps. I was mid-cheer when our plane banked suddenly left.

"Sly, what are you doing?"

"The Baron's trying to get away!"

I twisted in my chair and saw him aiming for a full-sized plane the Baron had just jumped onto the wing of. "I am not shooting down that thing!"

"Good thing that's not the plan, then." He pulled on the seat buckle and his harness fell away, "Switch places with me."

"Say _what_?"

He climbed onto the wing above our heads and I gaped, "It's not that hard, just take the wheel."

"Are you _insane_?! Get back here!"

He jumped.

Sly's paraglider caught the air and carried him gently toward the plane and the Black Baron while I was confronted quite bluntly with my own mortality.

I was faced with two choices. Abandon ship and hope my parachute could slow my descent enough that I wouldn't die, or do as Sly had suggested and take his place in the front of the plane.

At two hundred feet and decreasing, I swung my legs over thin air and the partition that separated my seat from the front, sliding into the pilot's chair.

"Bentley, how do I fly a plane?"

"Stay calm and pull up on the throttle to gain some altitude- NOT THAT MUCH!"

I hastily leveled out the plane, "Get me out of here!"

"Okay, calm down. Head for the marker I'm projecting, that's the landing strip. Okay, good. Now, you need to slow down before you can try to land."

I was shaking so much that I was surprised the plane wasn't trembling, "How do I do that?"

"Do a few circles over the strip. Now that you're out of the actual dogfighting area, no one should be trying to shoot you down. That's right, just like that. Decrease your altitude a little bit each circle. Okay, good. Now, there's a little switch to your right and down a bit. It's gold."

"I see it." The ground was getting awfully close.

"Okay, flip it, it's your landing gear." With a shudder and a clunk, the gear fell into place, "Alright, you're good to land. Once the wheels are firmly on the ground, turn off the propeller and slowly apply the brake, alright?"

"No." I started coming in anyway. The moment when I landed and the plane bounced a bit down the landing strip was probably the most terrifying moment of my life. I followed Bentley's instructions, despite how much I wanted to just start screaming and lose my head entirely.

I almost ran out of strip, but I managed to drag the plane to a halt. I turned it off and let my head drop painfully onto the dashboard.

"Kaia?" Bentley's voice came from the ground, "Are you okay?"

I shakily raised my hand to give him a thumbs-up.

* * *

"Hey, guys, you'll never believe this! Penelope is actually the Black Baron-"

Sly had landed with the Baron's plane and come to the hangar with Baron-Penelope to let us in on his discovery. I didn't really let him finished.

I marched right up to him and hit him in the face. Nothing fancy, just a good old-fashioned open-handed hit with all the muscles in my arm behind it. Then I grabbed him by his scarf and dragged him down to my level.

"If you ever pull anything like that again, I will come up behind you with a rusty nail, dig it into your toenails, and drive it up through your skull until your brains spill out like a blender without the top on." I let go of him and turned to Penelope. "Hey there, Baron! Get a haircut?"

She laughed nervously and scratched at the back of her head, "You could say that."

"Ah well, I like this look better anyway."

She gave a genuine smile and turned to the rest of the gang, "Come on, they're waiting for us at the winner's circle!"

After the ceremony, a blinding amount of camera flashes, and the presentation of the trophy, Penelope invited us up to her castle for dinner and explanations.

"I invented the Black Baron to get past the dogfighting league's strict age requirements," she explained after a gourmet dinner that spoiled me for life, "But the thing is, after I won, the Baron became sort of a celebrity. To be honest, I'm kind of relieved that I don't have to live that life anymore."

"So," I said, voicing the unspoken thought in the air, "You feel like a job?"

She grinned, eyes twinkling behind her glasses, "Absolutely."

* * *

The next morning, however, we hit a little snag.

"Err…" I leaned over to speak in a hushed voice to Bentley after Penelope proposed an aerial tour of Holland, "What's the nice way to say 'I would rather die'?"

He covered up his laugh by clearing his throat, "That sounds wonderful, but-"

"You really don't want me to go," I said, taking over. I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to cover up the fact that I was the problem, "I get awful motion-sickness and I'm scared of heights. I'd make everyone miserable with my mere presence."

"But you flew in the ACEs competition." Penelope said, confused.

"Yes, and I was on the brink of an anxiety attack the whole time. And I think any process I made in 'conquering' my fear was reversed by that little stunt Sly pulled." Here I glared at him.

He just smiled back, of course,. "Nice threat earlier, Jinx. I never would have guessed."

"Thanks, I heard it on the internet somewhere. My point is, you guys should totally go, but it would be better if I didn't."

"But we can't just leave you here!"

I frowned. I didn't mean to make anyone upset, Penelope was just trying to be nice. I was struck by a thought, "How about this, you guys drop me off somewhere and I can have my own little vacation while you all are flying around the countryside. Deal?"

She seemed relieved, "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

"You sure this is the place, Bentley?" I asked as Sly lifted my suitcase down to me.

"Positive." He said, looking across the small field to the medium sized two story house at the top of a small bump in the landscape. Fire and lamplight flickered through the windows in the late evening sun.

I took in a deep breath of country air. This was actually quite nice. I turned and waved to the crew, all crammed into their little tiny plane. The way I saw it, I was getting the better end of the deal, "I'll see you in a week!"

"Make good choices!" Sly called from his seat. I picked up a little pebble and chucked it at him as the plane took off again, then set out for the old house.

The area was home to springy grass and a few sparse trees. There was a small pond with a dock, despite the fact that it didn't look big enough for any sort of boat. It was several miles from the nearest main road, nice and peaceful.

I trudged up the little hill and, not seeing a doorbell, knocked hard on the door.

After a moment, I heard light footsteps and the door opened a crack, a wary violet eye peering out as though expecting an axe murderer.

"Hi, Ritsuka!"

He slammed the door.

"… hey now, that's not nice."

The deadbolt thudded as it turned.

"AHANU! Ahanu, Ritsuka locked me out!"

A window the floor above me opened and a brightly colored head stuck itself out and looked down at me, "Kaia?"

"Hi!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Long story, but I have a week off and I decided to grace you two with my presence!" I spread my arms wide and he laughed.

"Hang on a sec!"

* * *

And Holland is done! Who's ready for China?

I hope you all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought!


	11. The One With The Promotion

I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING RISE OF THE GUARDIANS

*SCREECHING*

THAT IS ALL

On with the chapter!

* * *

So I spent the week with Ahanu and Ritsuka. Ahanu taught me some more conversational French so I could actually leave The Safehouse on my own from time to time and I taught him and Ritsuka how to cook (they were living off microwavable dinners and frozen pizzas).

Most days I spent my time catching up on the reading I hadn't been able to do and walking across the fields around their house. It was beautiful country and most days it was overcast, so all I needed was a light jacket and I wouldn't freeze or get too hot in the sun.

It was very relaxing, but I was starting to go a bit stir crazy by the end of the week. Fortunately, that evening the roar of an engine sounded throughout the house and Ritsuka came in, looking windblown and disgruntled. "A plane just landed in the yard."

I grinned, sitting up from my place lounging in front of the fire, "That would be my ride!"

Ritsuka fell dramatically to his knees, thrusting his hands heavenward, "There is a God!"

"Oh, you're going to miss me, admit it."

"No."

Ahanu shook his head at us and went to open the door at the sound of a knock. "Hey, Bentley. You're going to have to answer to Ritsuka."

"Why did you leave her here?"

Bentley looked a bit haggard, but he laughed at Ritsuka's accusation, "Sounds like you guys had fun."

"Oodles. Just let me get my bag." I said, heading up the stairs two at a time. "How was the trip?" I asked, noticing he followed me.

"Oh, just _fine_."

"Now, you say fine, but your voice says 'I'm a frustrated turtle'."

Bentley sighed and put himself in the corner as I gathered up my things and stowed them in my bag, "Penelope is brilliant, but she also has a painfully obvious crush on Sly that makes things really awkward for everyone in earshot."

I paused. Penelope was crushing on Sly? Well, I guess that made sense. Objectively, Sly was sinfully attractive and Penelope was still probably best friends with her hormones, especially after having repressed them the whole time she was the Black Baron. Still, one had to feel sorry for Bentley. "Is this a 'wow, really?' sort of awkward or a 'do I have to throw a bucket of cold water on you to bring you back to Earth?' sort of awkward?"

"Cold water." He said instantly.

"Oi."

"Exactly. And Sly is too nice to tell her he's not interested without prompting."

"Prompting as in a declaration of undying love?" I gave him a sympathetic smile as we headed downstairs. He'd never say he was jealous, but it was obvious. "Well, I'll try to intervene subtly when I can so it doesn't come to that. The last thing we need is drama." We shared a shudder at the thought before emerging into the living room.

"Jinx!"

"Sly… can't breathe." Yup, he had the vague and jumpy expression of the hunted. He was definitely in need of intervention on his behalf. "Time to head back?"

"You got it. My bed is calling my name."

So we bade goodbye to Ahanu and Ritsuka and turned for home.

* * *

It was a couple of weeks later when Bentley wheeled out of his workroom to join the rest of us in a dinner of Chinese takeout (no one felt like attempting to cook).

He sighed and caught the small white box and chopsticks Murray tossed to him, "Well gang, I have two pieces of bad news and one piece of good news. What do you want to hear first?"

"Good news in the middle." Sly suggested around a mouthful of shrimp fried rice.

"Alright," Bentley opened his cardboard box and stuck in the chopsticks, "Bad news one, we're going to have to recruit a full-time demolitions expert to get us into the Cooper vault, my skills are just not specific enough."

"What's the good news?" Murray asked with a mouthful of eggroll.

"I have a candidate."

"And the other bad news?" Penelope asked from her spot next to me on the couch.

"It's the Panda King."

I somehow managed to recall the name even before Sly's food hit the ground. I looked over to where he was perched on the filing cabinet, his hand still partially clenched. His expression is what I imagine it would have been had someone snapped his cane in half right in front of him; part rage, part loss, part betrayal.

"Funny, Bentley." He sounded distant. "I could swear that you just suggested we invite the Panda King to join our team."

"That's exactly what I said, Sly," Bentley replied, voice flat.

"You cannot be serious," Sly insisted as though he actually believed it.

"I am."

The raccoon took a deep breath, slipped off the top of the filing cabinet, and stalked out of the room.

There were a few heartbeats of silence before Penelope asked carefully, "Who's the Panda King?"

The Guru murmured an explanation to here while I bit my lip, staring at the doorway Sly had just gone through.

"_What?_"

"Kaia, go make sure Sly doesn't break anything irreplaceable. I have some explaining to do when once he calms down."

"I don't know what makes you think I'll be able to stop him," I said, putting aside my sweet and sour chicken, "But I'll try and make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, nevertheless."

I found Sly in the Hazard Room, beating the stuffing out of some dummy guards. He didn't look up when I came in and I didn't really expect him to. I just sat on the step on the outside of the door and watched him let loose his anger.

After about fifteen or twenty minutes he stopped and stood, panting, in the center of the Hazard Room.

"I can't do it."

I looked up at him, but stayed silent.

"I can't let that… that _monster_ on my team." He clenched his fists, shoulders shaking. "He had a hand in taking out my dad. I… I had to work _so hard_ to get past that. I can't do it again."

Now I stood and walked over to stand in next to him. I wished I had something to say that could make him feel better. I didn't and was faced with a peculiar sense of failure. He looked double his age; his face was lined with strain, like he was fighting a particularly harsh inner battle.

Kicking myself for not having something better to offer, I gently ventured, "Bentley wouldn't have suggested it if he thought there was another option."

His breath left him in a huff, "I know and that makes it somehow worse." He looked down for a moment, then lifted his eyes to meet mine, "Come on, Jinx. Let's practice your Spire jump. If we're going to China, you're going to need it."

Neither of us mentioned going back up to the living room as Sly worked the controls into a Spire course. He wasn't quite ready and I _did_ need to work on my Spire jump. I was okay at it, better than I was at climbing wall hooks or swinging from suspended hooks, but I was nowhere near where I needed to be if that was going to be the main method of climbing.

I took to the course, slowly at first, then more quickly as I gained confidence and Sly gave me pointers. I was just trying the method he suggested of using my tail to balance myself when I saw them.

I fell. It was a ten foot drop to the ground and I landed on my back. It was a few seconds before I could breathe again and Sly had made it over to me by then. I tried to get to my feet to brush off the fall, but my legs absolutely refused to support me.

Sly's voice was lost in the roar of blood in my ears, so I simply sat and focused on breathing. After a couple of seconds, I could make him out.

"… Kaia, if you do not say something _right this second_ I am calling an ambulance-!"

"Easy there, quick draw," I panted out, "I'm okay… just give me a second to catch my breath."

After establishing that I was not about to drop dead, Sly launched right into a rant, "What was _that_? You didn't even mess up your landing, you were perfectly balanced! Did you just _forget_ to balance-?"

I rested my weight behind me on my hands, looking up at the Spire points. They were still there. "Sly?"

"What?" He snapped.

"I think I'm going insane."

"… Why?"

"There's these…" I waved my fingers vaguely up at the Spire points, "… crazy lights."

Instead of the 'did you hit your head' that I was expecting, Sly was silent. After a moment, he asked, "What do they look like?"

I struggled for a moment with how to describe them. "Like… like fireflies, but bigger and brighter. And white."

"Where are they?"

I was a bit worried that Sly was taking me seriously when _I_ couldn't even believe what I was saying, "On the Spire points. Just the Spire points. And," A shine out of the corner of my eyes caught my attention, the pipe we had used to get up to the platforms, "And on that pipe over there." That was weird.

Again, he didn't do what I expected. I was expecting for him to order a CAT scan. Instead, he swept me off the floor and spun me around the room, laughing.

"Put me down, I'm going to throw up on you!" When he finally stopped, I had to hold onto him to steady my spinning head, "What was _that_ all about?"

I don't think I've ever seen Sly look so happy or so proud. "Those lights. I see them too. So do Bentley and Murray. They're the sign of a Master Thief."

… _what?_

"_What?_" I looked at him like he was the crazy one, "But I- I'm not that good yet! I'm not a Master Thief!"

"The lights say you are. Are they still there?"

I glanced over, "… yes."

"Then there you have it. What color are yours?"

"… They're white. Are you telling me there are different colors?"

He grinned, "Mine are blue. Bentley's are green and Murray's are pink."

For some crazy reason, I felt a bit gypped that mine were so normal, "But… but what are they?"

"They indicate a thieving opportunity. Wherever you see them, you can perform a Thievius Raccoonus move." He was positively beaming, "Is that why you fell?"

"I was surprised!"

He laughed again. I was torn between being annoyed that I was the subject of his mirth and being glad that he didn't seem to be mad anymore, "I can't believe you can see them, this is awesome!"

I stared at him for a second, then smiled and shook my head. "Does this mean I'm officially a thief now?"

"That is exactly what it means. How does it feel?"

"Let me tell you in a second, the world is still spinning."

He dragged me upstairs to tell Bentley (everyone else had already gone to bed), which turned out not to be such a good thing because Bentley wanted to return to the subject of the Panda King, which Sly grudgingly allowed, good mood evaporating.

"The Panda King has given up his life of crime and had taken to the life of a monk; quiet meditation up in the mountains."

"If he's so 'reformed', what makes you think he'll help us?" Sly asked, arms crossed.

"He seems to be having some problems with a local general. I was thinking of making a deal."

"'You scratch our back, we'll scratch yours'?" I quoted, retrieving my cold Chinese food, which suddenly seemed ironic.

"I don't like this." Sly stated obviously.

"He's our best chance." Bentley said firmly. "The least we can do is go talk to him."

"Well, I'm sure you've already booked our tickets, so why not?"

The turtle had the decency to look sheepish, "We leave at six tomorrow evening."

I glanced at the clock, "And you tell us this at midnight."

* * *

Disguises, a frustrating ride in coach, a long, painful, cold walk, and thirty hours later, we emerged into a secluded valley in the Kunlun Mountains.

"Stay sharp, team." Sly said, more serious than I'd ever seen him, "For all we know, the Panda King's just as dangerous as ever."

"How can you say that? Just look at him, have you ever seen anyone more at peace with the world?"

I followed Bentley's gaze up to the little gazebo/pagoda thing that overlooked the valley. There sat an old panda in white robes, deep in meditation. I had to admit, he looked harmless, but I also remembered what I'd heard about him and was perfectly content to be wary.

"I'll admit, he does look kind of… 'zenned out'." Sly said, squinting up at the pagoda.

"Mr. King…? Honorable Panda King!" Bentley called up, "We humbly wish to speak with you!" The figure above us didn't so much as twitch.

"I guess he doesn't want to talk. Sorry Bentley, let's go." Sly didn't sound sorry at all.

"Be realistic, Sly." Bentley said flatly, "He's obviously in a deep meditative trance."

"Oh yes, that's realistic."

He ignored me, "Hmm… It'll take some doing, but I think I see a way to get the team up to his shrine."

"Good!" Murray said, sounding relieved, "The walk up here tired me out, I don't want to turn around now! Man… I miss the van… we never had to walk anywhere back then."

Oh yes, the van. The killer of internal organs and olfactory glands. Admittedly, it had been convenient, but still, I hadn't been half as sad to see it float away over the horizon as Murray had been.

"Okay, okay!" Sly's irritation was obvious in his voice, "Let's just get this over with."

"Murray, you're up first." Bentley pointed to a pillar to our right, "If you can get to the top of that pillar, you should be able to use your ball move to bounce all the way up to the Panda King."

"Okay… bouncing is a lot easier than more walking. Seriously, do you guys want to see my blisters?"

"No way!" Penelope yelped, "… is he serious?"

The Guru made a few impatient gestures.

"Yeah, okay Master! Bouncing, pillars, piece of cake!" Murray leapt down to go tackle the pillar.

Rubbing his forehead, the Guru grumbled something I could catch under his breath.

"I hear that," Bentley nodded at the Guru's statement, "Sometimes you've got to be firm."

"No, but seriously, was he for real about the blisters? Because… I don't know… yeesh!"

"Think about it this way, Penelope." I said placatingly, "You know how there's always that one kid eating the paste?"

"Yeah?" We watched as he ascended to the shrine

"Murray was that kid."

"Oh…"

"Okay! I'm in position!" He called.

"Alright. Penelope, you're up next." Bentley said, turning to regard the mouse, "I'm not sure if you're aware, but Sly and Kaia can jump on to small points. Those bamboo shoots would be an ideal means of ascent if they weren't spaced so far apart-"

"Hold on, hold on… let me see if I can figure it out for myself…" Penelope cut him off. For some reason, he looked pleased.

"It's… uh… got to do with the ice."

"Okay, so clearly we need more points in order for them to ascend. The problem: Where're we going to get 'em? The answer: Split each shoot down the middle, thereby doubling the points of ascension. However, the ice down there appears too thin to walk on, so there's no way to do it by hand. So I'll need to use my lightweight remote control car to split the trees for us."

"Perfect… that's it exactly!"

Penelope then proceeded to destroy any respect points she had gathered, "Great! Anything for Sly… I love to see him pull off those athletic moves…" Even ignoring the fact that she sounded kind of like a predator, I was a bit offended. What was I, chopped liver?

The RC car was sent out onto the ice and made quick work of the bamboo shoots with its mounted turret. Seeing such firepower on something so small and decorated with a flower was a bit weird.

"Yes! There you go Sly, hope it's everything you could've wished for…"

I made gagging motions behind her back and I was only half-faking.

"Uh, thanks… it looks great."

"My pleasure. Really… anytime…"

"Uh, guys, isn't it time you _climbed up there_ and _joined Murray_?"

"Yeah… sure…"

Aw, poor Sly seemed as oblivious to the fact that Bentley was jealous as Bentley was. Someone really ought to explain that to him. Not me, though, I was enjoying the situation too much.

"Jinx, you head up first."

That snapped me out of my sadistic inner soliloquy, "I'm not going to fall again, Sly."

"No, but those branches are pretty thin. I don't want them to break after me and leave you without a way up."

"Sly, if you break them, you're going to fall into an icy death trap with no one nearby to fish you out if I'm up at that shrine."

He grimaced, "How about you head up and I'll follow right behind you?"

I thought about that, "You'd better, you're not allowed to die just yet."

"Thanks. Really. Nice to know you care." His voice was drier than dirt.

I grinned and headed up. The bamboo was a little springy and gave some before holding, but once I knew what to expect, the ascent was easy. Not to mention those convenient little sparkles showed me exactly where to land.

Sly followed immediately after me and, fortunately, none of the bamboo broke. That would have made this day even worse.

Once we got up to the shrine, Sly ran over to wave down at Bentley.

"Whack the supports on those pinwheels!" The turtle called.

"Really?"

"Pinwheel destabilization is the cornerstone of this plan!"

Pinwheel destabilization was achieved via Murray, the hippo catapult, and Bentley took advantage of it by lighting up all the rockets and sending the unstable pinwheels spinning. The Guru then took advantage of the two guards on the grounds to reach the top of a building that was home to some very potent fireworks.

I jumped when first rocket crashed into one of the pinwheels, sending it down to Bentley's level, and had to actively dodge when the second pinwheel was freed and arced around to knock down the bridge to the Panda King.

"Strong work. That fallen pinwheel should serve as an excellent makeshift elevator."

"Elevator?" I peered over the edge at the pinwheel, "That's not an elevator. That's a- a deathtrap!"

But somehow, they all managed to ride it up without serious injury, something that seemed next to impossible, yet didn't seem to surprise Bentley.

Together again, Bentley, Sly, the Guru, and I made our way up the bridge to the Panda King. He was much bigger up close, but no more threatening. Well, to me at least. From the looks of Sly, you could have played his nerves like a banjo.

"He's really out of it."

"I agree." Bentley replied. "He's in a super meditative state."

"So let's just shout in his ear."

"Just throwing this out there, but that _probably_ wouldn't end well." I said, peering over the edge of the shrine to the icy water below.

"No, to break him out of this trance we'll need to delve into his mind," Bentley said, pitching his voice for appropriate drama.

"A hacksaw, then?" It was disturbing that Sly seemed to be only half kidding.

"No! It'll require channeling."

"Channeling?" After the Mask of Dark Earth, I'd had more than enough paranormal activity for the next decade or so.

"Sly, just sit next to him and the Guru will bridge your minds."

Sly looked askance at Bentley and I asked, "Couldn't that be dangerous?"

"No, Sly's mind is stronger than the Panda King's," Bentley explained. "The Panda King never returned to his life of crime after Sly beat him, he hasn't gained any new tricks like Sly has."

Said raccoon sighed and sat cross-legged in front of the Panda King, "Let's just get this over with."

When the Guru started chanting and spinning his staff, I was surprised to be able to see thief lights swirl around Sly and the Panda King's heads, blue for Sly, red for the Panda King. Were these lights paranormal? I shook my head to rid myself of the thought. I did not even want to go there.

The two thieves sat motionless for upwards of twenty minutes. I was starting to get worried and it looked like the Guru was starting to get tired when Sly gasped like he hadn't been breathing and sat up straighter, shaking his head.

I wanted to ask if he was alright, but then the mountain of a panda finally stirred, opening his eyes and standing. His pale eyes were narrowed in a glare at Sly, who struggled to his feet, and I suddenly saw the barest hint of what Sly must have seen. And I was scared.

Ironically, Sly seemed a little calmer. Not really that noticeable, but it was certainly there. He was still on guard, but he it looked like was no longer expecting to fight for his life at the drop of a hat.

It was Bentley who spoke first, "Er… honorable Panda King, we come to you with an offer of partnership. We require one with your particular skill to-"

"Insolent turtle!" The Panda King's voice seemed to make the very mountains tremble, "Why would I ally myself to those who ruined me?!"

Sly took a half-step to the left, where I was, at the same time I put a hand on my baton.

But then, of all people, the Guru stepped up. I wasn't sure if he did a mind meld or that weird speech that I could never seem to concentrate on, but he seemed to get the Panda King's attention.

The Panda King looked surprised and gave the Guru a small bow. "Your offer is welcome, but you must know what you say." His eyes seemed to burn with anger as he recounted the reasons behind his current position, meditating in the middle of nowhere, "A dishonorable general from the northern mountains abducted my daughter, Jing King. She is to be the bride in a forced marriage, I was exiled so I could not oppose it."

"A forced marriage?" There were few ideas I truly abhorred. Forced marriage was one of them. Arranged marriage was one thing, forced marriage was quite another.

The Panda King seemed to notice me for the first time and his expression softened half a degree, "Yes. She's not much older than you, child."

"How about this," Sly spoke up for the first time since coming out of the trance, "If we help you save Jing King, you help us in one job, just one. After that, we never have to see each other again."

The Panda King thought for a moment, staring off into the distance, "… Very well, Cooper. For the sake of my daughter, I will bear this alliance."

* * *

And in China we are! Mostly filler here, but next chapter will be much more dramatic. Good luck on finals, those of you in school, and enjoy your breaks! Let me know what you thought and I'll see you at Christmas!


	12. The One With The Flying Pigs

MERRY CHRISTMAS/OTHER RELIGIOUS HOLIDAY/NOT-PARTICULARLY-RELIGIOUS ATHEIST HOE-DOWN!

ENJOY THE CHAPTER AND THE EGGNOG!

* * *

So we headed north. The Panda King had a few friends still that let us into the estate of General Tsao. Bentley over-nighted his equipment and we established a Safehouse at the very edge of the small town.

"Alright gang, listen up," He said, turning on his slide machine. We were all cramped in perhaps the smallest Safehouse ever and probably would have been broiling if it weren't so cold outside, "We all know that our objective here is to retrieve the Panda King's daughter, Jing King. She's being kept against her will by this man: General Tsao." A picture of a rooster decked out in armor appeared, "A real peach, this guy. During surveillance I actually witnessed him kick a puppy! Twice!"

"Can't wait to ruin this guy's day." I muttered.

"He's planning on forcing Jing King to marry him next Saturday. Clearly time is of the essence. First, I'll approach Tsao in disguise and attempt to get hired as his wedding planner. Hopefully with a man on the inside, we'll get some news on Jing King. Still, we need more information! Two of us will work together to steal a pair of twin keys and break into Tsao's house of business. I'll utilize some new technology to neutralize their ultra-tight security. Finally, thanks to Penelope's air sweeps, we've picked up an unusual radio signature out in the water. Someone will need to go eyeball the anomaly and figure out what it is. We can't make any mistakes here, or Jing King lives unhappily ever after."

* * *

"Hey Kaia, up for a pickpocketing challenge?"

I looked up at Bentley from where I'd been tinkering with my binocucom, "Sure, anything to get the blood flowing, it's freezing in here!" Sly was out getting photos to endear himself to the General, which was why I suspected Bentley had asked me. Sly had started me on pickpocketing a couple of months ago and I didn't suck at it, something I was rather proud of.

"Okay, General Tsao's center of business is protected by a special double-padlock. If we can get inside and past all the security, we should have access to the purchase records for the wedding." He said, spreading out a set of blueprints and pointing out the small building.

"Okay… so you just need me to go and get those keys?"

Hey shook his head, "I'm afraid it's not that simple. The keys are designed with a self-destruct feature and the guards carrying them are in constant radio contact."

"So if one of them notices they've been pickpocketed before we snatch the second key, the other guard can destroy it?"

"Precisely," Bentley pointed out the locations of both of the guards. "We need to steal the keys almost simultaneously. I'll go first and hail you on the binocucom when I've made the pull. Let's do this."

* * *

China was cold. Stupid winter. Stupid December. Stupid snow.

I stood crouched on top of a small house on stilts over the river, looking down at the guard that stood at the dock. Fortunately, his key ring was sticking out of his back pocket and wouldn't take much of a pull to obtain. The only potential hazard was my fingers going numb, but I was wearing gloves and had my hands tucked under my arms, just waiting for Bentley's cue.

"I've got the first key! Go for the second before the guards call in."

And there it was.

I slipped off the roof, landing lightly, as I'd been taught, and slid carefully into position behind the guard. I'd just pulled the key into my hands when a muffled voice came from his radio and he went to reach into his pocket, finding the key missing. We came face to face.

I grinned widely, "Well, hello there!" and threw a smoke pellet to the ground. While he was coughing and hacking, I bolted to the far side of the platform and leapt onto a passing boat's sail, scrambling around to the far side and holding on for dear life.

"Excellent, your key is still intact. We'll meet up by the General's statue."

"This guy sounds like a massive ego maniac," I muttered, heading down towards said statue, "I would have been more than happy to do this job even if we weren't getting a demo expert out of it."

"Trust me, so would I."

I had to crawl along the top of the wall for a bit to get to the ostentatious statue and, by extension, Bentley. I handed over my key with a smile, "Good luck. Have fun with that grapple-cam."

He smiled and tossed the tennis-ball sized piece of tech up and down, "Oh, I will. Don't wait up, this could go all night!"

I laughed and leapt down onto one of the lowest pathways. I wasn't quite ready to head back to the Safehouse, I wanted to get better acquainted with the area. We were going to be doing quite a lot over the next few days and I wanted to be able to do it without getting lost.

The estate was a maze of pathways on various levels, all leading to each other and, at the same time, nowhere. It seemed built on the concept of confusion and if Bentley hadn't perfected his waypoint technology, I would probably have no idea how to get back to the Safehouse.

Debatably the strangest thing in the area was a pagoda, to the left of the main house when it was viewed from the Safehouse. On the top level, there was a single room that was open to the outside. There was nothing inside it except a tarp you could step on to get to the window leading out. As far as I could tell, it didn't really serve a purpose.

I was still trying to puzzle it out when a screaming pig went flying past the window.

It took me a second to comprehend it and another to convince myself I wasn't seeing things. I stepped out the window and carefully to the edge of the roof, reaching out and turning on my binocucom at the same time.

"Umm… Penelope," I decided, seeing the RC chopper shoot past, "What's going on?"

"**The unusual radio frequency out in the water was your old team van!**" Penelope's voice was strained, "**Murray refuses to leave it behind and I'm trying to clear a path for him to get back to the Safehouse!**"

"**I care not how many foes come before me! 'The Murray' shall vanquish them all in his righteous quest!**"

"… right. I'm on my way, Murray." I may not have been much of a fighter, but this had 'bad idea' written all over it and I was going to help if I could.

It took a stupidly long amount of time for me to climb down from the pagoda and by the time I reached Murray, he'd been halted by six-foot tall protruding spikes.

"**Sorry, Murray.**" We could see Penelope at the ledge of the Safehouse from where we stood. "**But my RC chopper is out of fuel and I can't do anything about those spikes in your way.**"

"But… but we're so close!" Murray probably would have been on the verge of tears if he weren't so out of breath.

"**You tried your best, we just ran out of options.**"

"She's right, Murray, it's hopeless. Get out of there, save yourself!" Bentley had apparently gotten in from his crazy night.

"Murray, come on, there'll be more guards here any minute!"

"I will not! I will _never_ leave her behind again!"

"Murray-" I jumped when a new voice came over the binocucom line.

"**_Words to tear at a father's heart. Were that I had such passion when they came for my little Jing King... Fear not, brave hippo! I will destroy the spikes blocking your path!_**"

I jumped back when the turret above the Safehouse let loose a volley of ammunition, rendering the spikes into tiny, harmless metal shards in a matter of seconds.

"Whoa."

The remaining hundred yards to the Safehouse were a relative blur of explosions, beating guards back frantically with my baton, and cursing the team van to oblivion. It wasn't that I had anything against it, it was just that I had everything against it.

When we finally reached the Safehouse, the Panda King came down to meet us, bowing to Murray, "Well done, Hippo. You've lit the flames in my soul. I feel awake for the first time in years."

Oh heavens, not another one.

"No, thank you Panda King. You can ride in my van any time. You've got shotgun privileges for like a month!"

"A great honor. I accept," The panda said with another bow. I just groaned, Murray was going to want to take the van out just as soon as he broke it completely out of ice.

"I'm going to go preemptively take some motion-sickness meds…"

* * *

Just a few minutes after the van's triumphant return, Bentley gathered us for yet another slideshow.

"The operation is running smoothly. With me having gained access to Tsao's database and Sly successfully hired on as the wedding photographer, we're ready to make an attempt for Jing King. Given the complexity of Tsao's downloaded data, I've programmed the ThiefNet computer to automatically analyze- WHAT?!"

I think every single person in the severely cramped room jumped when Bentley yelped and a self-taken picture of Tsao, standing with the ThiefNet computer, appeared in the slideshow.

"General Tsao! He-" Bentley was clicking violently through his slideshow, "He- he's got my computer! Our whole plan was on that computer! How'd he find us- we're doomed!"

"Bentley, calm down. We need you sharp. Listen up, team." Sly had somehow made it across the room to hand Bentley a paper bag and take control of the briefing. Given the twisted nature of the gang's hierarchy, it always surprised me when Sly stepped into his actual roll of 'leader'. "This Tsao character is more clever than any of us thought. As of this moment, we have one goal, steal back the ThiefNet computer. The time for subtlety is over. Bentley, you break into the palace and ransack his personal computer, he might have linked it to ours. So that's where we'll start, the rest of the team will be on stand-by, there's no telling where this might take us."

"Umm…" A notion had crawled up into my head and settled in and it wasn't a nice houseguest. "I- I think I might know how Tsao found us." My voice was just barely over a whisper, but I suddenly had the team's full attention.

"What?" Sly was still in leader mode and was not happy, "Why didn't you mention this before?"

I fiddled with my bottle of motion sickness tablets anxiously. Stupid child-proof lids… "It just now made sense. I was out getting the lay of the land earlier and I found a little room tucked into the upper level of a pagoda. It was completely bare, but you could see most of the estate from there. It didn't click until just now that that included this place." I shook two chewables into my hand, having finally got the stupid thing open.

Bentley seemed to have caught his breath, "Where is it?"

I tossed the tablets into my mouth, "It's-" my back teeth sank into the first tablet and I choked, doubling over and coughing the medicine onto the floor. I then turned and bolted for the closet-sized bathroom in the back of the Safehouse.

"Jinx-!"

"Don't touch those pills!" I tried my best to move my mouth as little as possible while calling over my shoulder. I fumbled with my toothbrush and turned the faucet on full-blast.

While I scrubbed at my mouth with a desperation that would have made my dentist back home cry with joy, I heard Bentley squeeze through the group in the other room and examine the abandoned pill bottle.

"Kaia," I heard in his voice the same horror that had me on the verge of cardiac arrest, "Did you swallow _any_ of that?"

I was too busy gargling to answer.

"Will someone tell me what is going on?!"

"Sly, smell this. Just smell, don't touch." I heard a rattling as the bottle of pills changed hands, "What does it smell like?"

"… almonds?"

"What does that mean, Bentley?" Oh innocent Penelope, I'm kind of relieved and kind of terrified that you don't know.

I spat out my mouthful of water. "Let's just put it this way, those chewables are supposed to be orange-flavored." I gripped the edge of the sink. My knees felt weak and my head was spinning, though I couldn't tell if that was a negative side-effect or just the result of such a dramatic scare.

"Cyanide powder." Bentley's voice was grim, "Tsao laced Kaia's motion-sickness tablets with poison."

"I don't think I swallowed any," I said quickly, to head off any panic before it could begin, "And if I did, it was just a little, not enough to seriously hurt me- I… I need to sit down…" I was shaking badly. My eyes were filled with moisture, so I felt my way to a corner and slid down, putting my head between my knees and trying to regulate my breathing.

The Safehouse was dead silent. I heard the faint rustle of cloth as Sly joined me in the bathroom.

"Kaia." His voice was the epitome of forced calm, "Are you sure? Are you absolutely positive you didn't swallow any?"

I took a deep, shuddering breath and sunk my nails into my ankles, "Yeah." I repeated, "I spat it out just as soon as I registered the taste. Even if I swallowed any, it won't be enough to hurt me." I really hoped that was true.

"Where did you keep the bottle?" Bentley's voice was barely more than a whisper.

"In my backpack."

Everyone was sent to check their own belongings. Sly didn't move, though, and neither did Bentley, which I appreciated. I was doing my very best not to have a nervous breakdown.

"Bentley," Sly forced calm was gone and had been replaced by completely natural cold fury. I would have pitied Tsao if he hadn't just tried to kill me, "Why would Tsao try to poison Kaia?"

"I- I don't know." Bentley sounded as if his world had shattered. Losing the ThiefNet computer followed by witnessing such a close call could do that.

"Sure you do," I was going over the list of symptoms of cyanide poisoning in my head and trying to figure out if I fit them as I spoke. Then I remembered that the whole purpose of cyanide was to keep the body from absorbing oxygen and leaned my head back against the wall, taking deep breaths but keeping my eyes closed, "Just think about it."

"I suppose…" There it was, the sound of those hamsters burning rubber. "Yes… yes, of course…"

"Enlighten me."

I let my eyes slide open a sliver. I don't think I have ever seen Sly so mad. "I'm kind of the physical representation of everything Tsao hates." I could say that with relative confidence, given what we knew of his personality.

"What do you mean?"

Bentley took over as I let my legs slide down, barely able to extend them in the small area, "We already know that Tsao has no great opinion of women, that's obvious by the way he treats Jing King like a possession and just kidnapped her immediately without even attempting a courtship."

"But that doesn't make sense- he kidnapped Jing King, he didn't kill her and he didn't try to kill Penelope." Frustration was evident in the raccoon's voice.

"It's because I'm a hybrid." I wish I hadn't let my eyes slide closed, I missed Sly's reaction entirely.

"What?"

I spared Bentley the awkwardness of explaining, because I'm nice like that, "Tsao considers women useful for one thing, the continuation of bloodlines. Hybrids can't have kids. In Tsao's mind, I'm worse than useless, I'm just hanging around, using up air and valuable resources."

"But- but you're-"

"A second generation hybrid? Yeah. My mom won the genetic lottery. I should rephrase, it's not impossible for a hybrid to have kids, but it's highly improbable; the odds are astronomic, almost incalculable. The little medical jargon I could understand when I was little and this was explained to me said that the only reason I was born was probably because my mom had wolf genes and my dad was a husky. At least, I think that's it. I could just as easily have made all that up to explain it to myself when I was younger." I realized I was babbling, so I shut up.

It was silent for a bit, until the outside door to the Safehouse opened and I heard Penelope's voice, quiet, like she had expected me to drop dead in the time since she'd left. "There's no poison anywhere else."

I opened my eyes again and found myself staring into Sly's, "See?"

He did not respond. He calmly stood up, calmly sat himself down in front of the binocucom station, and calmly asked if Bentley was ready to get started.

* * *

"… his diary says something about a secret passage through the prayer bell… and then a 'walk across the heavens'…? You getting this, Sly?"

"I'm en route to the bell now." Sly said, checking the straps on his leg pouch.

"Better bring along the Guru, this sounds like his department."

Sly turned to me, "You sure you're going to be okay?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and repeated to myself for the zillionth time that he was just worried. I'd probably be the same, in his position, "Sly, cyanide kills in fifteen minutes. It's been an hour, I'm fine." Actually, I was experiencing some muscle weakness and shortness of breath, but they were minor and would probably go away in a few hours, or a day at most. I knew this from research I did on common poisons when Bentley first suggested I take the position of field medic. It was serving me well now.

"Just don't keel over on me. We're not done yet."

I smiled and didn't even try to figure out what he meant, "I won't. I'll man the binocucom station and give color commentary if you want, just go get Tsao."

"I'll hold you to that."

It was a strange set-up. Sly was on the binocucom, I was manning the binocucom station, and Bentley was monitoring it all from the computer in Tsao's palace because he needed the codes stored in it.

I sighed as I peered out the window and saw Sly jumping on the heads of guards fifty feet in the air, "Ah, the days when I could pretend physics was plausible."

"Don't ruin my dreams, Kaia."

"_Aw, who needs physics anyway? Physics is boring. Ah, I think I found the little hole in the wall you were talking about, Kaia. You're right, he could have seen us perfectly from here._"

"Yeah," I propped my chin in my hand, tugging my coat a bit tighter around my shoulders. The Safehouse was cold when it was empty. "I should have thought of that when I first saw it, but then I got distracted by Murray and Penelope."

"Well, at least we know how he found us now. Hey, Sly, I'm getting weird readings from up ahead. Want to use your optimizer goggles?"

"_No thanks, Bentley. I'd like to be able to look Tsao in the eye when I punch him in the face._"

"Feeling a bit violent, are we?"

"Sly, if you get the chance, try to imply that Kaia took the cyanide pills. If he thinks she's dead, we can use her as a secret weapon."

"_I don't know if I can do that, Bentley._"

"Why not? It sounds like a good plan to me."

"_Because if Tsao had killed you, actually killed you, all of this sneaking around would not have happened. Things would have gotten really messy really fast. And if I saw him face-to-face, I would probably have killed him._"

You could have heard a pin drop over any of the binocucom lines. Sly had stated that last with dead certainty and that was scary. Of all the things the gang had done, cold-blooded murder was not even on the list. I wanted Bentley to be in the Safehouse with me, I wanted to ask him if Sly had taken a hit to the head or something and I hadn't been informed, Sly didn't even kill the people who killed his dad. Granted, that particular grievance had had ten years to be dwelt on, but still, why would he even consider that?

Then I imagined what would happen if it had been Bentley or Murray in my position and everything made sense. No force on Earth would have been able to stop Sly.

"You're not a killer, Sly." Thank you for being the voice of reason, Bentley.

"_Well, maybe maim him, but he definitely wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else when I was done with him._"

I wasn't sure what to feel about that, so I decided to change the subject to what I saw over the binocucom screen, "Whoa, what is that place?"

Then Tsao leapt up onto one of the bamboo trees, across the foggy, circular arena from Sly.

"_Ah, the famous Sly Cooper. It seems you and your little gang were able to follow the trail I left for you. Of course, you'll be helpless without them, as you'll soon discover._"

"Wow, this guy is secretly an _idiot_ if he thinks you're helpless on your own." I muttered, wishing for a better angle from the binocucom.

I heard the slight smile in Sly's voice when he replied, "_I'm not ashamed to rely on my friends._"

"_Who needs friends when you can have servants?_" Tsao spat, "_Who needs affection when you can have obedience?_"

"People with _souls_."

"Kaia, you're probably being distracting-"

"Hey, I promised color commentary. This is it."

Was Tsao _still _talking? "_This sacred forest has been the stage for hundreds of battles, as my ancestors crushed anyone who got in their way. And you will be no different._"

"_Bentley, are you hearing this? What's he talking about?_"

"I've heard of these types of battlegrounds before. The energy from all the fighting that has gone on before strengthens the combatants, allowing them to soar for long distances. You should be able to fly across the entire arena with a single jump! Plus, you can probably change directions in the air with your double jump."

"_Enough chit-chat, Cooper! Face me now and prepare for the end of your legacy!_"

"Wow, this guy wasn't hugged enough as a kid."

* * *

"That dirty cheap bast-!"

"You okay, Sly?"

"_Yeah_," Sly coughed out, "_Just a smoke bomb. I'd say something about him having a flair for the dramatic if it wouldn't be hypocritical._"

"Good fight though, Sly," I said, taking out my medical kit, "He won't underestimate you again."

"Go ahead and come back to the Safehouse, partner. I've got a new plan in mind."

"You too, Bentley. I don't want you still in there when Tsao gets back. He's not going to be in a good mood."

"_Jinx has a point._"

"Don't worry, I'm already on my way back."

I sat back in my chair and ran a hand over my face. I was exhausted, which was something I didn't get to say often. I was just completely worn out by the day's events. "Umm, guys, if it's no big deal, I'm going to take a nap. Wake me for the slideshow?"

"_You okay?_"

I sighed, "Just tired. It's been a mad day."

"Sure, Kaia. It'll take me a bit to flesh out my plan anyway."

I smiled a little, "Thanks, Bentley. I'll see you guys in a bit."

* * *

And-done! You know, I feel a bit silly. The next chapter was the one that was actually supposed to fall on Christmas, but I miscounted when I published the story. Oops? Ah well. Let me know what you thought and have a Merry Christmas!


	13. The One With The Split

Updating a little early today so I can go to bed and actually get some sleep before work tomorrow.

Or, alternatively, I could update early, _plan_ on going to bed, then start writing and suddenly it's 3 am. Probably that.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

It was four hours later when I was woken up. I suspected that Bentley had waited until the very last second and probably delayed the slideshow a bit, but I also suspected he'd lie if I asked him about it, so I kept quiet.

"Thankfully, we've managed to retrieve the ThiefNet computer. However, all the plans stored inside are now compromised. For now, Jing King remains Tsao's prisoner. Yes, we are going to free her, but that's not enough. Oh no, for this heist, we really need to put the screws to this guy, he's earned it."

"Amen to that." I said, stretching as much as possible in my tiny little chair in the corner without accidentally kicking the Guru.

"_So_ we're cleaning out his treasury as well, as feat impossible without Murray's van. Unfortunately, all that time in the ice has ruined its poly-cellular battery. I'll need Sly's help to acquire a new one, which won't be easy as Tsao's gone all out with security. He's even resorted to black magic dragons and hopping vampires patrolling the streets. We need to even the odds before the wedding."

I sighed and shook my head. You'd think I'd be used to unnatural phenomena by now, but no, I still wanted to run screaming through the streets. I yawned instead.

"Sly, you and the Panda King will work to gather fireworks to blow up the vampires' crypt. No crypt, no more vampires."

"Where's Buffy when you need her?"

"Kaia, you'll be manning the binocucom station. I know, I know, not your favorite option, but we need someone to keep an eye on all of the goings-on while we're separated in the field."

I actually didn't mind too much. I was still a bit tired and black magic and vampires were the last things I wanted to deal with. Still, I wasn't going to tell him that, "Fine, but you all owe me your lives!"

"Whatever. All right, team, let's get to it!"

* * *

"_There are going to be fangs everywhere!_"

"**_…_**"

"_… right… I'm just going to head back to the Safehouse._"

"**_… yes… do that…_**"

"Aw, don't worry, Sly, I'm looking forward to the rain of fangs too!" I was doing the rubber pen trick as I spoke when I paused, thinking of something, "Wait, wouldn't that be dangerous? How are these vampires created, are they the bite you and you turn into a vampire sort or do they have to suck your blood and then you suck their blood, like in Buffy the Vampire Slayer?"

I heard him sigh, but when he spoke, it sounded like he was smiling, "_You know about Buffy, but you don't know who Ringo Starr is. What would I do without you?_"

"Hey, Buffy is a classic." I grinned, settling my chin on my crossed arms, "And I know that Ringo Starr is a famous person, but I don't know specifically which famous person. And you'd die of boredom." I frowned as I saw the icon popup of a conversation going on via binocucom that I didn't know about. Penelope and Murray? "Sly, I'll see you in a bit, I have to monitor whatever tomfoolery is about to go down."

"_'Tomfoolery'? What are you, ninety?_"

I turned off his channel and switched over to the one Penelope and Murray were using, "Uh, guys, what are you up to?"

"**I found a way to listen in on Tsao's phone conversations.**" Penelope sounded pleased with herself, "**I'm having Murray break open the General's phone router and I'm on my way to go rewire it.**"

"Um, are you sure that's a good idea?" I mentally flashed back to the slideshow, "Bentley didn't say anything about that being necessary."

"**Well every little bit helps, right?**"

'Not when you don't run it past Bentley!' I screamed in my head. I opened my mouth to produce a much nicer version of this when, via Murray's binocucom screen, I saw him break the box open and immediately the view-screen fogged up.

There were the sounds of much coughing and hacking, before he fell to the ground and wheezed, "**That's… bad… gas…**"

Penelope gasped, "**This is all my fault! Hang on, Murray, I'm coming!**"

I bit my lip hard and watched helplessly as Murray was loaded and tied onto a cart and powder keg, being pulled to the top of the mountain. I wanted to run out and help, but there was no way I could catch up to those guards in time or take them on my own.

I switched to Sly's channel and tried to call him, but received silence in response. His screen said he was fine, but for some reason he wasn't responding. Then I tried to call Bentley and got the same result.

Of all the times for them not to be listening! I was really starting to panic when I heard Penelope start talking again, having reached where she expected to find Murray.

"**I'm too late! He's as good as dead!**"

I opened my mouth to reply, with what, I had no idea, but I was overruled.

"No, there's still a chance! Use your RC car, it should be fast enough to beat the lit fuse up the mountain. It's the only tool we've got to save Murray."

"Bentley? … Bentley, did you… did you- lock me out of the binocucom station?" I saw red. "How did you even do that remotely?!"

He didn't respond, but I know he heard me. I watched as Penelope's RC car chased, passed, and ultimately beat the lit fuse to Murray, managing to somehow, against all odds, run into a wall and knock an icicle free just in time for it to snuff out the fuse.

"**Yes! The Murray lives! I will never forget you, brave little RC car! We will be friends forever! You can ride in my van!**"

"Bentley, why did you lock me out?" I asked, "You'll notice I'm being very calm. The only reason I'm being so very calm is because I can still see your screen and know you were three feet from Murray and could have saved him at any time, but let Penelope do it. I assume you have an explanation."

There was a bit of silence before he replied, "Penelope messed up, but we need the ingenuity she is capable of. In order for us to see that, she had to fix her mistake. I locked you out because you would have prevented her from doing that and I'm fairly certain the amount of yelling you would do would be detrimental to her voicing her ideas in the future."

"…" That made sense, but I was still mad. I had to have the last word, "… And you have a crush on her." I disconnected the binocucom, everyone was on their way back to the Safehouse, and sat back, sighing.

Sly and Bentley returned first and I took the opportunity to say, "Sly, that was mean, letting Carmelita think she'd finally caught you."

"It was Bentley's idea."

"Devious."

"Thank you."

"But since she's here," this had been gnawing at me since I saw her patrolling, "Do you think Inspector Garter is here too?"

The Safehouse fell silent. "It's possible." Bentley admitted finally, "We'll certainly have to be on the lookout for him. He's somehow managed to keep completely off the grid since being assigned to your case, I can't track him at all. Not even a train ticket."

"Do you think he's doing that incase you're tracking him," Sly asked, trying to balance his cane, "Or _because_ you are?"

I was confused by this question, but it cause Bentley to think hard, "I don't know, but if I had to choose, I'd say because of me."

Now I was even more confused, "Why would Inspector Garter know you'd be tracking him?"

"Because Kristian grew up at the same orphanage that we did." I almost fell out of my chair, but Bentley kept talking, "I was there long before Sly or Murray and so was he. He was one of the oldest kids to come to the orphanage, at thirteen. I was… I think I was seven or eight. I idolized him for a long time and, for his part, he didn't tell me to get lost. He became distant in high school, but I guess he remembered enough of my love for electronics to know to go completely off-grid when he started to track us."

"And I didn't know this until now… because?"

"Well, you didn't ask. Ooh, acid glare, but really, it just didn't have a chance to come up." Sly gave a disarming grin that probably would have had Penelope swooning at his feet, "But you know now, right?"

I opened my mouth to deliver a biting retort, but then the Panda King came in and I shut up, returning to willing the cup of snow in front of me to melt faster. Okay, so I'd gotten a bit paranoid from my cyanide scare. I didn't want to drink any of the water we'd brought with us and I was scared of the tap, so I was melting snow. Shut up, snow is good. Now it was all a matter of how long I could go without eating…

Bentley cleared his throat and began the final slideshow with a sadistic little smile, "Time to free Jing King, rob General Tsao blind, and send him up the river. I call it Operation: Wedding Crasher. This will be a multi-pronged job, with two groups running simultaneously. I'm sure I don't need to stress the importance of _the schedule_ to anyone?"

"Us, somehow deviate from the original plan? Never."

"First, Sly, Murray, and Penelope will make their way through all the security in Tsao's treasure temple, then hand off the goods to me for loading into the van. Meanwhile, the Panda King and Guru will tunnel beneath the palace, creating an escape route for Jing King. Sly, you'll have to pull double duty, taking care of any topside security designed to detect subterranean assaults."

"I can't help but notice that I'm on neither of these teams."

"I'm getting to you. With all that done, I'll use my grapple-cam to lure Carmelita into the palace, where we'll try to get her to take Jing King's place. Then, with the girl and loot in hand, we run for it!"

"Into the sunset?"

"Actually, we'll be doing this in the early hours of the morning, so-" sigh, "Yes, Kaia, into the sunset."

"Okay, and what's _my_ job?"

"Oh, I think you'll like this." He hefted a large backpack from underneath the table, "How would you like to cause an avalanche?"

I gave him my most charming smile.

* * *

"… Well." I said aloud, looking up at the dragon twisting itself into convoluted shapes in the sky. "There's something I never thought I'd see."

Everything had gone precisely to plan. And then, one fateful day, Murray was born. And then, some twenty-five odd years later, he decided to cannonball into a treasury with foundations so rotted through you could see out the other side.

I'd heard the crash like a giant firecracker just as I finished setting the explosives. My job was to cause a small, controlled avalanche to prevent General Tsao from giving chase after the van by filling in the only road out of the valley with snow after the van had passed through.

At the sound of everything going wrong, though, I ran back into the valley. This was just in time for me to witness the massive red dragon rise from the water. No fair, how come the stone dragon came for Tsao and not Mulan?

Wait, focus, it just grabbed Penelope.

I stuck the detonator for the explosives into my backpack and ran for the pagoda. The hole in the wall was on the top level, I might be able to figure something out from there.

There was no need, though. When I got up to the fourth level and the small, empty room, I saw Sly shoot up, towed by a firework. He landed on the spines on the dragon's back and spire jumped up to its head, where he proceeded to beat it senseless with his cane.

He fell once or twice when the dragon rolled, but his paraglider carried him to safety and he was back up there on the next firework he could find. I cheered with everyone else when he glided back down with Penelope.

Then, as the van started to drive off into the 'sunset', I realized that I'd been an idiot.

* * *

Bentley, along with everyone else in the van, jumped when they heard the explosions and two tons of snow barely missed burying them alive as they squeezed through the pass.

"Cut it a little closer there, Jinx, I couldn't feel the wind on the back of my neck," Sly said into his binocucom.

"_Sorry, Tsao's guards were right on your tail, I had to detonate right then._"

Bentley pulled out his laptop and booted it up, "Never mind that right now, where are we picking you up?"

"_Well, you see, that's a funny story…_"

His binocucom tracker program came up and for one whole second, he could not process what he was seeing. When he did, his breath left him all at once, "Kaia, you _didn't_."

A little window opened as she turned on her camera and she smiled, "_Tell me there was another way and I'll lie to you, then we'll both feel better._"

"Tell me where I need to go, little buddy."

"Murray's right, that snowfall won't take too long to clear if Tsao's goons are determined. Where's Jinx?"

Bentley couldn't seem to unstick his tongue from the top of his mouth, so Kaia spoke, "_Just keep driving, Murray._"

"What?" Sly shouldered his way into the frame of Bentley's camera, "What are you talking about?"

"_You'll have to forgive me, I kind of jumped the gun earlier when I heard the treasure temple fall. I came running to see if you guys could use my help._" She turned her binocucom outward, so they could see what she saw. She was on the far side of the estate from the exit, up high somewhere, and managed to zoom in on a squawking Tsao, shaking his fist at the wall of snow blocking him from giving chase. "_I couldn't get back out in time and I couldn't delay detonation. Sorry._"

Sly had frozen, so Bentley turned his laptop back to face him, "Kaia, we can-"

"_No you can't._" Her expression was set, "_You don't have time. Tsao seems to think Jing King is still in the palace, but you still need to get her somewhere safe. Interpol will be crawling all over this place by midday tomorrow. I'll think of something, I'm pretty sure Kristian is lurking around here somewhere._"

"He'll arrest you!"

"_I'm kind of counting on that to get out of here. Better Interpol than Tsao finding out I'm still here. And Bentley? Stop Sly._"

The raccoon had strapped back on his leg pouch and paraglider and was headed for the back door of the van before Kaia pointed him out to Bentley. The turtle knew he was going to regret this later, but pried a dart from the spring-launched he'd built into his chair and jabbed it into the back of Sly's leg as he opened the door.

With those darts specifically designed to stop over-built guards in their tracks, Sly didn't stand a chance. He pitched forward and only the reflexes of the Panda King kept him from tumbling out of the van.

"He's going to kill me later, you know."

"_Tell him it was my idea._"

"Listen," the situation was just really sinking in and Bentley felt sick, "We'll find you. Wherever they put you, we'll get you out."

She blinked and smiled, "_I know. I was there when Sly and Murray were taken, remember? I have no doubt that my imprisonment will be temporary. Don't take risks, though._"

"We're thieves. Taking risks is our lifestyle."

"_Alright, fine. Just don't take unnecessary ones. I'll hide my gear near the abandoned Safehouse so Sly has something to do while you're fleshing out a plan, but I'm going to have to sink my binocucom. I don't want anyone, especially Interpol, getting their hands on your tech._"

"I'd have to agree."

"_Take care, all of you. And tell Sly…_" She checked her watch and grinned, "_Tell Sly 'Merry Christmas'._"

* * *

Kristian showed up as soon as I had hidden my gear, tied my faithful binocucom and a rock together, and watched them sink slowly into the hypothermic waters.

He looked at me, at my lack of gang, and the fact that I wasn't running away, and sighed, reaching into his coat, "I really don't appreciate this, Jenks." He said, producing a pair of handcuffs. "I like you well enough. All I wanted was Cooper."

I managed to smile at him as I put my hands on the back of my head, "I appreciate the sentiment, I'm sure the two of you will meet eventually."

I've handcuffed people before. I learned at a young age, after bugging Uncle John until his ears nearly started bleeding, right after my parents had split and he was new to his babysitting duty. For the rest of the night, my stuffed animals were convicted felons. I'd had the opportunity to use handcuffs several times since then, my dad let me carry a pair when I was in high school.

However, up until that particular point in my life, I couldn't say I'd ever _been_ handcuffed. I'd expected the metal to be cold, but it was warm, having been in Kristian's inner coat pocket. Having my hands bound wasn't a pleasant experience. The self-preservation instincts that I'd ignored for the past seven months kicked up an unholy fuss, but I fought them down to the point where they were just a bit annoying.

I was right, by the way. By midday, Interpol was all over the tiny little village surrounding Tsao's palace. As soon as Carmelita had broken her cover and arrested Tsao, the area was swarming.

Kristian and I stayed out of the thick of it, he was 'guarding' me and I was studying the insides of my eyelids. When Carmelita stormed in to demand her impromptu partner's assistance, she was… surprised, shall we say, to see me.

I woke up to her giving Kristian the third degree, then rolled over, crushed my pillow around my ears, and went back to sleep.

Interpol had a royal fit over what to do with me. First they fought over where I would be taken with the contenders being London and Paris; London, because that was where Kristian had claimed my case, or Paris, because that was the center of the investigation on the Cooper gang.

They decided Paris for some reason I wasn't privy to and bundled me into a snazzy jet that totally beat out coach in my recommendation. After a long, albeit comfortable, and annoying (Carmelita was trying to subtly weasel out the location of The Safehouse from me) plane ride, we landed in Paris.

Then came the discussion about just what they were going to do about me. There was _zero_ evidence of me participating in any sort of wrong doing. I was a bit surprised at this, then thanked my lucky stars that Bentley had been given advanced warning of my impending arrest and that I'd been voted as photographer back in Australia and there was no photographic evidence of me living it up with the gang.

Unfortunately, they weren't stupid and they knew that letting me go and trying to follow me to the gang was laughable. They also knew that there was a veritable wealth of info on the gang just waiting to be tapped inside my head.

What they didn't know was how stubborn I was about giving it up.

They offered Kristian the chance to interrogate me first. To this, he reportedly laughed (which I did not previously believe him capable of) so hard that he ran out of breath and politely declined, though he requested to be on the other side of the two way mirror to observe the interrogation.

I went through five agents by merely commenting on the different splotches on the ceiling and what I thought they looked like, then Carmelita came in. She left within five minutes, red faced after I mentioned loudly that incident on the volcano and not-so-subtly threatened to go into detail on record. It wouldn't really do anything bad to her, except take her off the Sly Cooper case.

Mwahaha.

Still, Interpol was stubborn. They couldn't get really heavy handed on me because the Cooper case wasn't exactly a matter of international security, just annoying, but they weren't going to let me go so easily.

After a long, closed door meeting with their prosecutors and some grey-haired guys in expensive looking suits, the higher-ups emerged and my sentence was handed down.

I was the first person to be institutionalized with a case of Stockholm Syndrome.

* * *

And another chapter done! I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas and enjoyed their break! Feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter and I will see you in two weeks!


	14. The One With The Daring Rescue

Okay guys, here's your chapter! Not much to say by the way of author's note except that this is in no way meant to be an accurate representation of the mental health system in _any_ country and that it's a pretty long chapter.

I should _so_ be in bed, I have class at 8 in the morning...

Oh well, on with the chapter!

* * *

"And how are we feeling today, Ms. Jenks?"

I flinched and glared into the overhead fluorescent light that had just been turned on. Stupid lights and stupid institute rules about not letting me sleep in past nine. I longed for the days where I could sleep until one in the afternoon and wondered what on Earth was taking the gang so long.

"Bored. You know the term 'cabin fever'? It applies." I was impressed by my coherence so early and decided to reward myself by sticking my head under my pillow and trying to go back to sleep.

Dr. Chat reacted to my remark by simply ignoring it, something she had gotten quite good at over the last five weeks. She probably didn't even look up from her clipboard. She was a tabby whose mud-colored fur was beginning to dull and streak with grey. She was the head of the Institute, the only doctor who could speak English fluently enough to deal with me, and on the brink of retirement. I believe the only reason she was sticking around was to crown off her career by 'guiding' me 'to a breakthrough' or something similar, and to use the Institute as much as she could as a convenient way to teach her University students.

I didn't like her very much. She was very strict and conventional, the standard disapproving matron figure that most people associated with Catholic school or that one really annoying aunt they only saw at family reunions. Fortunately, this made her quite easy to mess with.

"One of my students would like to meet with you today, if that would be alright." It not being alright wasn't an option, sadly.

"Sure, just tell them not to expect a straight answer and have them sign a waiver that says any physical injury gained in my presence is not my fault." It was the exact same answer I'd given the past seven times she had asked.

I heard her sniff in discontent, she hated sarcasm, "If you do not hurry, there will be no breakfast left by the time you stop lazing about."

I waited until she left, then beat my head repeatedly against the metal bed frame.

* * *

"Name?"

"Kaia Jenks."

"Age?"

"Three hundred and ninety-four."

The cheetah glared at me over his glasses. I appeared very interested in my chipped nail polish.

"Species?"

These 'meetings' consisted of Dr. Chat's students putting together a list of questions, either straightforward or aimed toward discussion, which she approved, and then they got to ask a patient of their choice. Usually a lot of the questions were transparent attempts to get info on the gang. Silly university students.

"Wookie."

The only straight answer I ever gave them was my name. I took great pains to be original every time they asked me a question. It was my way of surviving the crushing boredom.

The student let out a frustrated breath through his teeth. Apparently, this one had a short fuse. "Place of residence."

"42 Wallaby Way, Sydney."

This was fun. I was still trying to figure out how to work in a Doctor Who reference. Maybe next time I was asked my age I could say nine hundred and three-

"Have long have you been in a relationship with Sly Cooper?"

I sat up so fast the leather couch squeaked.

"WHAT?"

* * *

"So, how does it feel to be sedated?"

"I feel like my hands…" I examined my fingers in the fuzzy light, "… are made of cake."

Kristian snorted. Thankfully, he'd been there when I'd woken up. He came by often, at least once a week, more when his case load was light. He really wasn't so bad, so long as we stayed off the subject of the Cooper Gang. Maybe it was an act, like back in Venice, but it was nice to see a friendly face, fake or not, after such a traumatic experience. "What did that guy do? The higher-ups will seize with happiness if they can file charges against you."

"Assault charges? Against little ol' me?" I sat up and batted my eyes innocently.

He rolled his, "You don't have a _scratch_ on you and you broke his nose and most of the bones in his writing hand."

"Did I? So that's why my knuckles hurt so bad," I flapped my hand back and forth to make sure there wasn't anything really wrong with it, "I know you're not really supposed to hit someone with a closed fist, but it's just so _satisfying_."

He sighed and rubbed the upper right corner of his forehead, the area that he had designated 'the Kaia headache zone' when I asked, "Just tell me what he did."

"He asked if I was in a 'relationship' with Sly."

I half-expected a tumbleweed to bounce across the linoleum floor in the ensuing silence.

"He…"

"Yeah. Is he even allowed to ask me that?"

He didn't respond, he just stood lethally, "I think I'll go have a word with him."

I cackled and flopped back onto my pillows. And began to plot what I would say if any students were brave enough to repeat the question that I quite clearly hadn't expected.

It wasn't like I didn't find Sly attractive or anything, the guy was smoking, it was just that I'd never thought of him that way, so I, for some reason, didn't anticipate anyone else would. After thinking about it, I started to be more surprised that no one else had asked the question.

Sly and I were relatively close in age, he was attractive and I was… well, I wasn't ugly at least, and we got on well. Why hadn't I thought anyone would ask the question?

Maybe it was because Sly was so thoroughly in the 'Friend Zone'. Well… thinking about it, that didn't quite make sense. Sly and I were close, really close, but labeling him as a 'friend' or even a 'best friend' didn't quite feel right.

The mantle of 'best friend' could be coated in gold and handed to Bentley in a heartbeat. Murray was definitely a friend. The Panda King and the Guru were acquaintances. Penelope was sort of a friend/acquaintance, because of the whole gender bond thing and the fact that she had a brain and a decent sense of humor. Sly was harder to categorize.

I frowned at the ceiling. I seriously couldn't put a label on him. For some reason that bothered me. On one hand I hated labels, on the other I used them liberally. I just liked having my thoughts organized. Of course Sly would make that difficult.

I sighed and picked at a loose thread on my pants. They were standard issue pale pajama pants of a blue/grey/green color that was as depressing as it sounds, my shirt was a regular navy blue. I'd been given slippers, but I ran around in socks for two reasons. First, it gave Dr. Chat a nervous tic. Second, the linoleum floor was really fun to slide on when it had just been waxed.

Kristian came back in, looking satisfied, "Did you know that Dr. Chat didn't clear her students' involvement in the institute with the psychiatric board? She's now under performance review for that and not complying with your requests in regard to having an outside party interview you."

It took me a second to realize what he was referring to. When I did, I laughed, "I was totally being sarcastic about the waiver thing, but whatever keeps me out of jail."

He actually gave a small smile and tapped the side of his head, "Sarcasm doesn't really translate well."

* * *

One week later, Dr. Chat was practically walking on eggshells during the morning's greeting. She hid her annoyance with me only thinly, but her words were carefully selected, as though she expected a film crew was hidden in the room and secretly reporting to her bosses.

"Oh, I'm just peachy, thanks." I answered her routine question with heavy sarcasm and without looking at her, two things she hated. I was aiming at a tiny spot on the ceiling and trying to hit it with a rubber band. My goal lately was to be as annoying as possible and hope to be released out of frustration. The gang was taking forever.

"That's good to hear," I was surprised the temperature in the room didn't drop at the frostiness of her voice, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear you have two visitors waiting for you in the lounge."

I blinked and actually sat up and looked at her in disbelief, "Really?" Kristian had only been here yesterday and she said _two_ visitors. Very few people had the credentials to get in to see me, Interpol wasn't taking any chances on me escaping, "Who?"

She took her sweet, sweet time flipping through the papers on her clipboard and my heart had just started to sink at the idea of my visitors being agents here to interrogate me, when she said, "Some young men by the names of Ahanu Sinclair and Ritsuka Valenta."

Somehow, the fact that they had last names took me by surprise. I leapt up, "Awesome, what are we waiting for? _Allons-y_!"

She had me in a position where I was actually showing emotion and she wasn't giving that up easily. She slowly flipped to another page and put her pen to it, "You know them?"

"Yes, obviously." I scowled.

"Would you describe your relationship as 'close'?"

I crossed my arms and glared at her. She looked up, saw my pose, and backtracked a bit.

"What is your relationship with these men?"

Oh she was _asking _for it. I plastered on a grin and spread my arms wide, "They're my sassy gay friends!"

She snapped her pen in half.

Ink went everywhere.

* * *

I had to practically use Dr. Chat's own smelling salts to bring her around so she could unlock the door and skipped down the hall until I got to the lounge.

I threw open both doors, just because I'm dramatic like that, and spotted Ahanu and Ritsuka instantly. I heard the doctor right behind me, so I implemented the plan I'd come up with during the short journey.

I launched myself at Ahanu, breaking into theatrical sobs, "Ahanu! I've been here for six weeks and it's boring and they keep trying to medicate me!" That was true and through some clever sleight of hand learned from Sly during long plane rides and good acting skills, all the pills wound up in a puzzle box Kristian had brought me for just that purpose, "Hold me and tell me I'm pretty!"

Ahanu is to be commended for his flexibility and improvisation skills. He really belonged in a theater troupe somewhere. He caught me and spun me off my feet, "Of course! You're absolutely stunning, even in those hideous clothes, and the outside world misses you!"

We buried our faces in each other's shoulders to make our hysterical laughter sound like sobs to any on-lookers. I think I heard Dr. Chat faint somewhere behind me.

Ritsuka rolled his eyes and called us drama queens.

* * *

We sat in the lounge and played Connect-Four, talking in hushed voices. There was a security guard by the door and cameras everywhere, so any lip-reader would be able to know what we were saying, but we still tried to pretend at privacy.

"It's really good to see you guys," I confided, cutting off one of Ahanu's more obvious attempts to line up his pieces, "You wouldn't believe how depressing this place is."

"I can take a wild guess," Ritsuka said, leaning back in his chair and taking in his surroundings. I sometimes forgot that he actually had medical knowledge, "Let me guess… older head psychiatrist, resilient to change, probably using outdated methods."

"I don't know about the 'outdated methods' thing, but the rest is spot on. I think I gave her a coronary when I called you two 'my sassy gay friends'."

Ritsuka choked on his paper cone full of water. Ahanu had to use the table to support himself he was laughing so hard. When he recovered, the first words out of his mouth were, "What are you doing? What, what, what _are you doing?_"

We high fived. Ritsuka buried his face in his hands and seemed to be uttering a Czech prayer.

"So, what are you guys doing here? Not that you need a reason." I hastily added.

Ahanu shrugged, "Just to give you this, really." He handed me a package wrapped in Christmas paper and I squealed with joy; from the shape and weight, it was obviously a book, "We would have come sooner, but it took quite a bit of leverage to get my bosses to give me the credentials to get past the Interpol officer downstairs."

"What do you _do_?" I asked, realizing that: A, I didn't know; B, whatever it was gave him influence with Interpol. "I thought you were just a translator."

He widened his bright green eyes, "I am."

"Don't even try," Ritsuka recommended, barely lifting his head from his hands, "I don't even know. You'll only get a headache."

"Duly noted," I said, frowning at the bracket in front of me, trying to come up with a good move and mentally making a note to ask Bentley, "So, how long are you guys in town?" It was hard to keep the pleading from my voice.

It surprised me that Ritsuka answered, "Just today, really. I have a job interview in a couple of days. We can't come back for a while because of that huge storm that's supposed to roll in this Saturday." He looked me dead in the eye. It was Sunday, "They say there'll be power outages across the city."

"Really? I hadn't heard anything about that. It'll probably be chaos outside." I dipped my head, then lifted it, the barest nod. Then I dropped a red disc into the vertical frame in front of me, "I win, Ahanu."

* * *

The next day, Dr. Chat unexpectedly and quietly retired. There was much rejoicing. And cake, lots of cake, for some reason.

Tuesday was spent quietly, for me at least. The rest of the Institute was trying to work out who would be doing what as far as leadership went. I just read the book that Ahanu had left for me, _The Beekeeper's Apprentice_. After about half an hour of reading it, it was my new favorite book.

On Wednesday, I was introduced to my new psychologist. The new doctor in charge of the Institute was focused more on updating the various treatments and dealing with the grievances Dr. Chat had left behind than dealing with publicity, so I was pushed to the backburner. As such, my new psychologist was a rookie fresh out of school.

"Hi!" She said, bouncing into my room in pink scrubs at the debatably illegal hour of seven thirty. She was a pretty, chocolate brown spaniel with white speckles across the bridge of her nose, "My name is Genevieve!"

He accent was French, but she spoke English as though she'd been doing it for years. She'd probably lived in the States when she was a kid or something.

Instead of hitting her over the head with the book I'd fallen asleep reading, like my anti-social self wanted to, I lifted my head and took her outstretched hand, "Hi, Genevieve. I'm Kaia." I sounded as though I'd been drinking glue, but she smiled broadly.

"It's nice to meet you, Kaia! I think we'll be good friends!"

I just clutched my book compulsively, as though Sherlock Holmes could materialize from it and protect me with logic, "I'm sure we will…"

Genevieve turned out to be one of those people that you want to hate, but you can't quite get there. She was annoyingly cheerful, but there was absolutely nothing I could fault her for.

So, her prediction was actually accurate, we became friends over the next few days. She even snuck _A Monstrous Regiment of Women_ in for me once I'd finished _The Beekeeper's Apprentice_.

And then Saturday came.

* * *

It was three in the morning on Saturday. It was perfectly clear outside and the weather report said that it would stay that way.

I was laying with my head pillowed on my arms, staring at my bedside clock and trying not to fall asleep. I wasn't sure when the promised power outage would happen, so I resolved not to sleep until it did. This was easier said than done, you're never more tired than when you know you can't go to sleep.

Then the red numbers blinked out of existence.

It took me a second to process this, but then I sat up so fast I almost gave myself a head rush. The steady hum of electricity through the building, something you never noticed until it was absent, was gone. The streetlights outside my window, however, hadn't faltered.

"God bless Bentley," I breathed, and made for the door, pushing it open without resistance now that the electronic lock had disengaged. On Thursday, a safety manual had mysteriously made its way under my pillow. It detailed that the backup generator took several minutes to come online and that it was the duty of an employee of the Institute to maintain order during this time.

I wasn't too interested in that last bit.

I slipped through the halls, quiet as a ghost, on the lookout for any security guards. There weren't any. That should have struck me as odd, there was usually at least one, according to the safety manual, but I just assumed at the time that Bentley had taken care of it with his techno-black-magic. That's totally a thing, right?

I was in sight of the delivery entrance to the kitchen when I heard the muffled shriek.

It was a moment of severe indecision, I'm ashamed to say. Escape was so close.

Then I heard a thud and grabbed a nearby wooden broom, snapped it over my knee so I had a piece about as long as my forearm, and made my way to the supply closet, where I heard the noises.

The scene I walked in on was one of overturned shelves, pill bottles everywhere, and a security guard with bloodshot eyes and a fistful of Genevieve's honey-colored curls. She looked stunned, as though she'd just been hit.

The story I got later was that the guard had been using his convenient access to prescription drugs to feed a habit and had been high out of his mind (somehow) when Genevieve had caught him. Things had gone downhill from there.

At the time, though, I merely took in the situation and reacted. A sharp blow to the guard's arm made him let go of my doctor and cause him to round on me. It took hits to his shoulder, knee, and kidney to finally drop him, though not much dodging ability as his swipes were easy to see coming.

I planted a knee between his shoulder blades and Genevieve stumbled to her feet just as the lights came back on.

I sighed and hoped Bentley would forgive me.

* * *

It took a _lot_ to convince people that I hadn't been trying to escape, but had heard crashes and gone to investigate. Apparently, when you were taking the meds I was supposed to be, you'd be out like a light and wouldn't wake up to that.

Still, no one could get my puzzle box open, so they couldn't prove anything.

Genevieve (who I soon started to call 'Ginny') was even nicer after the incident, which was good because I'd fallen into a black pit of despair at losing my chance to escape.

Okay, so that was a bit over dramatic, but I still wasn't happy. The 'rescue' of doctor by patient from security guard had been well publicized, so I knew Bentley and the gang wouldn't hold it against me once they figured out what had happened, but it still stung.

But the electrical system was being updated now, how were they going to pull something like this again?

It was a few weeks later when I discovered that they had no intention of being so subtle.

* * *

Ginny had dropped by after her shift to give me _The Moor_ to read and I was listening to her and nodding every so often at the story she was telling me about the cute lynx she'd met while she was out to lunch.

"He seemed about your age and he was so nice! He was dressed in dark clothes, but he was so sweet and thoughtful! You know, he suggested cloud gazing because it looks like we'll have a few warm days?"

"Is that so?" I asked, reading over the inside cover of the battered library book.

"Yup!" She nodded, bustling about the room, checking over inconsequential things.

"What was his name?" Oh great, this had to do with the _Hound of the Basker_-

"Kurtis!" She beamed.

The book fell from my numb fingers onto the thin bedspread.

No way. No. Way.

"That's a cute name."

"Yup!" She giggled, "He told me to call him Kurt, though."

How the hell did they pull that off?! Did Kurt even own a passport? I knew Millie did- Oh no…

"He suggested cloud-gazing?" I looked outside, "Not a bad idea. The clouds are really pretty right now. I know you were just about to take off, but they won't let me out onto the grounds without you." Stupid Interpol, "Would you mind sticking around for a few more minutes?"

"Of course not!" She actually looped her arm through mine and pulled me off the bed, "What are friends for?"

"Busting me out of institutes."

"What?"

"Nothing. Let's hurry before the sun sets completely."

The grounds of the Institute were pretty enough. The wrought-iron fence ruined the aesthetics, though.

Ginny and I flopped down on the lush green grass. She sat, but I laid back, folding my arms behind my head. It was only a few minutes before I heard a quiet whirring sound.

"Hey, Ginny?"

"Yes?"

I turned and gave her an honest smile, which I think almost gave her a heart attack. "Thanks. You've been brilliant."

Then the claw dropped out of the sky and fastened itself securely around my torso.

I had a split second to grab the handles fastened to the line and hold on for dear life before I was yanked into the air.

Ginny shrieked dimly behind me, but I would have screamed in excitement if the wind hadn't stolen my breath.

I was vaguely impressed the RC chopper could hold my weight, but then I remembered that it had towed the van, incased in a block of ice, out of a freezing river on barely any fuel, then gone on to make pigs fly.

My arms were getting tired already, but I was more worried about the weight that would be on my spine if I let go. Then I saw a folded strap of nylon secured to the cable with twine.

It took some doing, but I got it untied. I twisted in the air until the newly unfolded strap was underneath me and I could pretend I was on a swing. Somehow, the steadily-increasing height wasn't so potent that way.

The buildings of Paris flew past me at an alarming rate, but I was trusting Penelope to not turn me into a rather unattractive smear on the side of a skyscraper.

I whipped my head around at the sound of a whistle and found myself staring at one of the balconies on said buildings.

I had a split second before they were removed from my sight, but that split second was burned into my mind for ages.

Millie was jumping up and down, waving her arms and grinning. Kurt had been the one to whistle and he was doing much the same, his silver hair glinting in the fading light. Roger stood behind them, hunched in his thick aviator jacket like a golem, but smiling.

Then I was whisked away, to the sound of Kurtis yelling, "Whooo, go Kaia!"

I just had to laugh.

* * *

The RC chopper ride got old after about five minutes.

Freedom was awesome, but it would be even more awesome if I didn't lose any digits from frostbite, if that was all the same.

The sun had set and it was a new moon, so when I left the City of Lights via remote control helicopter, I was surrounded by darkness. The fact that I was at a high altitude, wearing thin pajamas, and _over the ocean_ all of a sudden all contributed to how cold it was.

The only reason the height itself wasn't completely freaking me out was because I could really only see the stars, in the sky above me and reflected in the water below. And in the vastness of the ocean, it was really hard to tell what was far away and what wasn't.

I rested my forehead against the taut cable in front of my face and sighed, looking down. I knew I should be worried about pursuit, but how on Earth would Interpol go about chasing a remote control helicopter that had quite the head start? I'm sure they could probably manage it, but my brain was slowing and I didn't really want to think how. It was as though I'd used up all my excitement for the day.

I was proven wrong about the same time I noticed that some of the stars below me were bright purple.

The claw of the RC chopper let go of me and a split second later, the attachment to the sling I was sitting in gave and I fell. Somehow, I was too surprised to scream.

I landed, but not in water. I looked down. Yup, that was definitely water. But on top of that…

I pressed my hand down. It felt like cotton candy. It was a sort of… transparent fog, I suppose. It was tinted purple and scattered with thief lights of the same color.

The Guru.

I stood on the strange surface and looked ahead. There was nothing but the path, which only extended for a few yards. I walked toward the end, but found it the same distance away still. I looked behind me and there was nothing. The only sign to show that I had moved at all was the wave in the water beneath me.

Ever played Super Mario 64? It was like the never-ending stairs. I kept going and going, farther and faster, until I was jogging across the ocean on my own private platform of purple fog.

Where was the gang? How much range did Penelope's RC chopper get? How far out could the Guru make levitation platforms? All of these were questions I asked myself as I went.

Once or twice, it tried to occur to me that what I was doing was absolutely insane, but I just blandly acknowledged it and kept going.

After about thirty dark, silent minutes, I saw, up ahead, a slightly darker outline blocking the stars out. I started running.

I got closer and closer. It was a small boat, like a… very familiar raft. When a figure unfolded and stood and I saw the outline of two pointed ears, a long, fluffy tail, and a familiar cane, I started to sprint.

I was only a few feet away, now.

"Long time no see, Jin-"

I tackled Sly back into the boat. I was immediately enveloped by the smell of coffee and wood polish. He was warm and solid and his heartbeat was stark in my ears. I breathed out heavily, speechless for once in my life.

Fortunately, I didn't have to talk. He laughed, in happiness, not amusement at my actions, and held me with just as much strength as I was constricting his ribs. "It's good to see you too."

We stayed like that for about a minute before I had to pull back and slug him in the arm, "What took you so long?"

"Hey it's not our fault that you were sent to an institute that was six months behind on adding its patient information into its computer system- take that oar there. The only reason we found you this soon is because Bentley was keeping an eye on Ahanu and he found out and led us straight to you."

"What does he even do?" I asked, following Sly's instruction, sitting next to him and getting a good grip on the oar.

"Bentley won't tell me. Something about national security."

"Which nation?"

"He says all of them."

"… what…?"

He flashed me a grin as we started rowing, "I have no idea."

I started laughing, all of my relief and happiness and sudden relaxation coming out in a single expression, "Ten weeks is far too long to be without the pleasure of your company." I felt like half of me had been missing.

… wait.

He reached out and tousled my hair, "Yeah, let's hope we don't have to deal with that again."

Pressed next to each other in an inflatable raft patched with duct tape, rowing with numb hands through the darkness towards the darkness and the vastness of the ocean, we laughed like children and I didn't mention the chopper ride and he didn't mention his hydrophobia and that was fine because everything was right again.

* * *

I think I wrote this chapter in a single night, lol. I'm sure it shows. I hope you enjoyed, feel free to let me know what you thought and don't forget to visit the series' blog!


	15. The One With The Pirate Hat

HI GUYS, SLY 4 IS OUT, I HAVE IT, HERE HAVE A CHAPTER I DIDN'T PROOFREAD, IMMA GO PLAY!

* * *

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked, looking over my shoulder, in the direction we were headed.

Sly stopped rowing and I did as well. He spun in his seat and faced the darkness, "It should be somewhere around here."

"What?" I followed his example, facing the same darkness, "There's nothing there."

"Exactly."

I got what he meant a second before there were several dull, vague noises, and the sky exploded.

The Panda King. I squinted against the sudden lights in the distance. "Is that a cruise ship?"

"That it is." Sly said with a grin, taking up his oar again and elbowing me out of the way to take mine as well, "It's a long story."

"Fantastic. I love stories." I settled myself at the front of the boat, dimly wondering what the front of a boat was called. The only nautical terms I knew were 'port' and 'starboard'.

"Maybe it ought to wait until we get onboard," He said, peering over at me, "And get you a blanket or something."

I hadn't even noticed I was shivering and couldn't feel my feet until he mentioned it. Suddenly it was freezing, "Maybe it ought to."

I've hated rope ladders ever since I was little. Maybe that was part of the reason I was afraid of heights, I always fell when I tried to climb a rope ladder. Guess how I was supposed to climb up to the deck of the ship?

"You," I informed Sly, tugging on the rope ladder to make sure it was secure… and to stall for time, "Are staying down here until I am safely up there."

I could practically hear his smirk, "Scared of falling, Jinx?"

"I will push you out of this boat, don't think I won't." I sighed and shook my head, "Then I'll have to save you from drowning, then we'll both get hypothermia. I have _got_ to teach you how to swim!"

"Up the ladder, Jinx, it's not going to spontaneously become an elevator."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Close enough."

Several stories later, I reached up to grab the next ladder rung and my forearm was enveloped by a large, pink hand.

I find it extremely unfair that Murray can pick me up like a ragdoll, it makes me feel very small.

"Murray… Murray, it's great to see you too, but… I can't breathe."

He pulled back and scrubbed at his runny nose with the back of one massive hand, "'The Murray' is glad to see you back safe and sound!"

I patted his arm, dutifully ignoring his sniffling. "Thanks, Murray. Ah, Guru! Hello."

The koala muttered under his breath as he looked me over.

"Shut up, I've had a hard day."

"Hard?" Sly's head popped up over the railing behind me, "And here I was thinking this was a good day. Will no one help me up?"

I seized his arm and pulled, "RC chopper ride. That's all I'm saying."

"Sorry, I tried to make it as smooth as possible."

"Penelope!" I ran over to give her a hug, "Don't worry, anything to get me out of there. It was _so_ boring."

"According to the files, you caused quite a lot of trouble," came a voice from behind us. I turned and smiled.

"You would have too, you know." I bent over and wrapped my arms around the wheelchair bound turtle, "Thanks for the out. Missed you." And I had, almost as much as I'd missed Sly. Bentley was good to have around, he was a veritable bottomless pit of knowledge and he was just one of those people more than capable and willing to manipulate you for your own good. … Why I thought that was a good trait was beyond me.

"Sorry it took so long. I think Kristian was keeping you off the grid for as long as possible on purpose." He tilted his head at me and if his glasses hadn't been reflecting the light so completely, I probably would have been able to see them dart over me in examination. "How are you feeling?"

"Yeah, he probably did. I'm fine, I managed to avoid having to take any meds through sleight of hand- thank you for that," Sly nodded in acknowledgement, "And a puzzle box. Panda King!"

The large bear, who had just come down from a higher level, smiled slightly and bowed, "It is good to see you well, Kaia Jenks."

I grinned at him and looked around the deck. "So, anyone feel like telling me why we're here? The lights are pretty."

"You dig? Not bright as the club beat, but a home away from casa for Dimitri!"

I looked over my shoulder very slowly.

I refuse to be responsible for my following action.

* * *

"You really need to learn to control the violence of your reactions, Jinx." Sly sounded more amused by the situation than interested in actually reprimanding me.

I grunted at him, "I've been under severe, prolonged mental stress." I opened an eye and looked at him, "Didn't I lock the door? …Right, locking a door is probably like giving you a cookie."

He chuckled. After my rather… aggressive reintroduction to Dimitri I'd headed to my cabin (been grounded by Bentley) for the night. There I took the longest shower I'd ever taken and got over-excited at the prospect of using my own shampoo (which looked to have been stolen straight out of my bathroom at The Safehouse; I would have given a major limb to have witnessed that). Some of my clothes had also been added to the drawers, so I donned a T-shirt and pair of pajama pants, wrapped myself in a robe, and flopped onto the fluffy bed. Sly had apparently let himself in while I was in the bathroom changing.

"So, why are we here anyway?" I gestured vaguely to the room. It could have almost pass for a normal hotel room except for the balcony (which I never intended to venture onto _ever_) that overlooked only water, "Is The Safehouse nautical now?"

He snorted, stretching out a little more on the couch, "That'll be the day, though we might have to steer clear of Paris for a while. Nah, Dimitri called in his favor. He originally just booked passage for the gang, but we bought out the rest when we decided to use it as the getaway vehicle for your rescue. Easier to deal with that way."

"Okay, 'rescue' might be a bit of a stretch," I was interrupted mid-sentence by a very rude yawn as I stretched. "And while we're on the subject, exactly how much money do you guys have to be able to buy out passage on a _cruise ship_?"

Sly grinned and tapped the side of his nose, "Secret secrets. Don't you want to know what Dimitri's favor is?"

I sighed, pulling a pillow down to the foot of the bed and burying my head under it, "What favor did Dimitri ask, Sly?"

"Pirates."

I waited a moment, then lifted the pillow an inch so I could look at him under it. "I can't have heard you right. Did you just say 'pirates'?"

His eyes were alight with excitement, he was almost trembling with energy as he sat on the edge of his chair, "The favor Dimitri asked is that we recover diving gear that was stolen from his grandfather a long time ago. Stolen by a pirate. A pirate who lives in a town called Blood Bath Bay. Which is easily the most lawless town on Earth where the inhabitants doggedly maintain the ways of their pirate forefathers."

My mouth dropped open. When I reigned in my surprise, I had to say, "It is a really good thing you came to get me beforehand, if I'd missed this I would have killed everyone." Then I shook my head, "Only you guys would find a way to rob stereotypical pirates in the twenty-first century."

"Oh, ye of little faith. Oh, by the way- late Christmas present!"

I managed to catch the bag thrown at me by contorting at a weird angle that made every vertebrae in my back crack and almost dropping my pillow on the floor. I recovered gracefully.

Sly looked over the arm of the couch at me, "Nice catch. How's the floor?"

"Doesn't matter, caught the bag."

I sat up with a grimace and pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, followed by…

I burst out laughing and held up the plush raccoon, "You are so _vain_!"

"That depends completely on your point of view."

I shook my head and cuddled the plush, "Still, it's soft. Thanks. Did you all find the presents I had for you?"

"No way, we didn't go in your room any more than we had to."

I rolled my eyes, "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean my room is a toxic wasteland. Though it probably is now, I didn't get a chance to clean it before China…"

"My point exactly."

I threw the pillow at him. He dodged and tossed something else at me, which I actually managed to catch. I groaned when I realized what it was.

"Hey, it's either that or you spend the whole trip throwing up over the railing like last time. Besides, those have been cleared by Bentley as poison free."

"That does little to reassure me, but I suppose it's a necessary evil." I shrugged and popped the top on the bottle.

* * *

As easily as the banter returned, it was hard for me to really ease back into my role in the gang. It was through no fault of the gang, of course, it was just hard for me to relax my position of having to be withdrawn and aloof because anyone who had spoken to me for the last couple of months had had an ulterior motive.

I think Bentley had anticipated that. Since the gang had bought out the ship, I could wander as much as I wanted without running into anyone, but if I felt the need for company, it wasn't hard to find a member of the gang either.

Things didn't get better overnight and I had to apologize a lot for snappy remarks that came out without my permission, but things did get better eventually. By the time we reached Blood Bath Bay, I could say with confidence that I was almost back to normal.

* * *

I spent a surprising amount of time on the deck of the cruise ship. I'd never gotten the point of sunbathing, but at the beginning of spring the air was cool and the smell of the fresh ocean was to die for. A book, an iPod, and a plate of fruit made the area perfect for relaxation.

At least, until I was interrupted.

"Can you overdose on oranges?" Sly asked curiously after pulling the earbuds from my ears and looking over at my plate.

"Oranges are awesome. I missed oranges. And we're at sea, it seemed appropriate." I said, noting my page number and setting my book aside. "Besides, now my hands smell all citrusy. Let me guess, we're near Blood Bath Bay?"

"Yup," He practically dragged me off my chair, "Come on, let's go! Pirates!"

"You are six years old today. Tell me you didn't have Lucky Charms for breakfast. What are you- stop sniffing my hand!"

"It smells like oranges!"

"I told you it would! Here, have an orange. You can smell it _and_ eat it, how about that?"

"Oranges aren't soft."

"You're ridiculous. Bentley! My last bastion of sanity," He tossed me a familiar bag. "I hate you."

"Need I list the reasons?"

"No, but I'm still not going to be happy about it." I grumbled, opening up the bag and taking a look inside, "Great, I'm going to look like a banana."

"You're going to look like a hybrid no matter what," Bentley didn't even look up from his blueprints, though he did idly pop a wheelie. I don't even think he noticed. "The goal is to make you not look like a white hybrid with black hair."

"Everyone always wants to be famous. It's _really_ annoying."

"Speak for yourself," Sly suggested, plopping down into a lounge chair next to Bentley and kicking up his feet.

"Oh you can get away with it, there are lots of other raccoons. I'm going to go turn into a banana, be right back."

* * *

The Guru chortled when I reemerged.

"Thank you for your opinion, now shut up." I growled, shoving Sly's legs off the chair so I could sit down. The gang had gathered on the deck for a quick meeting before heading for shore.

"Alright," Bentley wheeled in front of the group like a general briefing his troops, "This is a simple recovery, so we shouldn't need to be out in force. Sly, Murray, Kaia and I will row over to the bay and set up a Safehouse. My intel tells me that Black Spot Pete still lives there, so we'll find him and get some information. With any luck, we'll have the diving gear by tomorrow morning."

"Better not take Jinx along then- OW!"

* * *

Murray ferried us each over individually, first Bentley, then Sly, then finally me. By the time we arrived, the Safehouse had already been completely set up. We had to sneak past a cat with a peg leg to get inside, something I had far more trouble not laughing at than accomplishing.

"Hallo Bentley! Where is Sly?"

"He's headed to meet Black Spot Pete."

"What, already?" I sat down in a chair where I could see the binocucom monitor, "That was fast."

"Yeah, well, I want to get out of here as soon as possible."

I blinked in surprise at the irritation in his voice, then grinned, "Not enough tech for you?"

"I can barely get a signal, even with the satellites!"

I resisted the urge to pat him on the head in favor of paying attention to Sly, who had reached his waypoint.

"There he is, Black Spot Pete."

"_I didn't think pirates could _get_ that old… thought scurvy would get 'em or something._"

"This is why you eat oranges," I supplied.

"Don't let your guard down for an instant. All pirates are killers, plain as that, and they don't trust outsiders at all. How's your pirate accent?"

"_Arrgh! I forgot me number two pencil for the scantron test!_"

I facepalmed. Loudly.

"Joke all you want, Sly. But that guy won't help you out until you've earned his trust."

Bentley was right, Sly and Pete's chat was short, sweet, and ended with a death threat. So far, this pirate thing was living up to expectation. Apparently, Pete would only talk of treasure with one guy and liked to stab anyone else who attempted conversation on the subject.

This meant Sly had to convince Black Spot Pete that he was his old shipmate 'Cantankerous Tim'.

"Is there some sort of 'Pirate Name' initiation for these guys?" I wondered aloud as Bentley instructed Sly how best to steal an eye-patch from a pirate that was paranoid about monkeys. Dropping an anchor on his head could hardly do any more damage.

"Their nicknames are probably given from events at sea," Bentley explained automatically, "They're pretty superstitious, so Black Spot Pete probably got his name from killing so many people."

"Legend of the black spot?"

"Indeed. Now, Sly, you need to steal this guy's peg leg…"

After assembling the eye-patch, peg leg, and a hat, Sly stole some more clothes and went back to see Black Spot Pete as Cantankerous Tim.

"Your pirate accent is just as bad as your Italian accent." I decided to inform him when he finally walked back into the Safehouse.

"Arr, yer jus' jealous!"

"Alright, you two," Bentley pushed back from his desk and rubbed his forehead, "This is obviously not going to be quite as easy as we thought."

"So we have to steal from a different pirate, big deal. So what if this one is not necessarily over the hill?" I took the pirate hat from Sly and looked it over.

"I've been doing my homework on this 'LeFwee' character-"

"In the three minutes since you heard about him?"

"Indeed. His reputation is bloodthirsty and he is the self-proclaimed 'Smartest Man on the Seven Seas'."

"Well, he's never gone up against you, little buddy." Murray had been so quiet in the corner, I'd almost forgotten he was there.

Bentley coughed into his hand and pretended he hadn't heard, though his cheeks were a little darker. Oh, Bentley and his inability to take a compliment. "I'm setting up a webcam link back to the ship so the others can see the slideshow too. Should just take a second… Ah! There we go."

"**Bentley? Do ya read me, Bentley?**"

"Loud and clear, Penelope." The turtle had the most fascinating look on his face. Sly and I exchanged amused glances, "Everybody there?"

"**_We are all present, turtle._**"

I squeezed behind Bentley so I could see the screen. "Hey guys! I have a pirate hat." I flipped it in my hands and put it on.

I never expected to receive a fashion critique from the Guru.

"Oh, what do you know, you run around in a loincloth."

"**_I think that hat is stylin'! Ninteenth century chic, dig?_**"

I took off the hat and tossed it to Murray, "Here, have a pirate hat."

"**_Cold._**"

"Can we get started, please?" Bentley asked almost tolerantly, turning the camera so it could see the projector, "Thanks to Black Spot Pete, we've got a lead on Reme Lousteau's treasure. It's buried somewhere on Dagger Island, a landmass many leagues from our current position. In order to make the voyage, we'll need to steal a pirate ship from the harbor."

Sly sat back in his chair with a dazed grin. I waved a hand in front of his face and he swatted it away idly, "Just a second, I'm having a moment with my inner six year old."

"Don't get too excited. This will be no easy feat given the cutthroat nature of these… cutthroats."

"Nice."

"_Ahem!_ First, Sly and Murray will steal a jollyboat and blast the rudders off any ships that could chase us into the open ocean. This action is sure to alert the Harbor Patrol, so be ready for a sea battle. With them out of the way, no one will be able to stop us from sailing out of the harbor."

"Wait a second… the pirates have a Harbor Patrol?"

"_Meanwhile_, Penelope and I will break into LeFwee's keep and steal the map to the buried treasure. Once both objectives are complete, we'll steal a ship and head for Dagger Island. Then it will be a simple matter of following the map, and digging up the loot."

"Best case scenario?"

"Best case scenario." He agreed, allowing a small smile.

* * *

"Hey, Jinx."

I looked up from inspecting my baton (I had _finally_ gotten my hands back on it) at Sly's incessant prodding. "Are you even aware that I have an actual name?"

He ignored the question, of course, speaking instead in a hushed tone so none of the other three in the Safehouse could hear us, "What gives? Usually you throw a fit when you don't get a job."

Okay, that was a fair question. I gave my baton a sharp smack to shut it and looked up at him, "Well… I'm still a little rusty. I _was_ almost completely inactive for over two months. But mainly," I let my eyes flick over to Bentley and Penelope, who had their heads together over a blueprint and identical smiles, "The only job that I'd really be good for is breaking into LeFwee's keep, and who am I to interfere if Bentley wants to spend some time with Penelope?"

The raccoon blinked in surprise, then his face softened and he gave me a grin, "Look at you. Turning into a matchmaker on me?"

I snorted and sat back, crossing my arms, "Hardly. Though I might if they don't get it together sooner rather than later. Still, I have to admit a little jealousy. Usually I get to do that stuff, it's not nice, feeling like you're being replaced."

"Hey, hey, hey, you're not being replaced. Why don't you come with me and Murray to steal the jolly boat?"

I laughed a little, "Unless you want me to throw coconuts at the Harbor Patrol and shout multilingual obscenities, I don't think I'll be much help. Don't worry though, I'll find a way to keep busy."

"That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

I didn't get a lot done that was productive in my little romp around Blood Bath Bay.

With my now pale yellow fur and blonde hair (I did not make a good blonde) I was content to stay out of sight and mess with the pirates from a distance. Stone Jake got the worst of it. His recent head trauma didn't seem to have curbed his monkey paranoia, which I exploited ruthlessly.

I also got a kick out of making noise and then disappearing before I could be found, especially after Bentley and Penelope's gadget blew up over town and the pirates got paranoid. They really were hilariously superstitious, it was fun.

I returned to the Safehouse, juggling an armload of coconuts, and was surprised to find Bentley sitting in front of Penelope with the first aid kit.

"What happened?"

"Some sort of blinding dust in the chest where LeFwee was keeping the map." Bentley explained, handing a sopping washcloth to Penelope and having her hold it over her eyes, "There don't seem to be any permanent effects though."

"Well, that's good." I loudly made my way across the room and sat next to Penelope, "Must have been fun getting back to the Safehouse though."

"Bentley saved me! He used his grapple-cam to lead me back here." That tone of voice was one usually reserved by Penelope for comments on Sly 'masterful manner'. Could it be that she'd finally shifted her attentions?

I turned and gave Bentley the most roguish smile I was capable of. He raised an eyebrow and lifted a water pistol in warning, before continuing to speak to Penelope, "Just keep that cloth over your eyes, hopefully it will help to flush out the powder. You'll probably be extremely sensitive to light for a while, though. Kaia, you want to help me pack up? Sly and Murray have finished with the jollyboat and we should be ready to head out to the ship we're stealing within the hour."

* * *

GOODBYE, SOCIETY, I'LL SEE YOU ONCE I'VE BEATEN THE GAME!


	16. The One With The Sea Battle

Hi, everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little late!

I beat Sly 4! It was soooooo good! If I hadn't known that a different company made it, I never would have guessed. I've been getting a lot of questions about this, so I'm just going to say broadly, even though I've answered this on the blog, YES I am going to write the sequel to Lima Syndrome based on Sly 4. I'm already doing it, in fact!

But enough about that, on with the chapter!

* * *

After Sly cleared out the night guard on the ship Bentley had deemed the best candidate for theft, Murray rowed the team over individually; first the Guru, then the Panda King, then Penelope, and Bentley and I went last.

"I have to say," I remarked, hauling myself over the railing, "I'm loving the dragon motif on this ship. Better than a mermaid, for sure."

"Oh, I don't know," Sly replied, lowering the hatch to below deck, "I always thought mermaids were classy."

I opened my mouth to say something scathing and no doubt stupendously witty, but Bentley interrupted me, "Once we raise the sails, it won't be long before someone onshore raises an alarm."

"No problem!" Murray declared, punching one fist into the opposite hand, "We wasted that harbor patrol!"

"You guys did a great job, but they still have cannons mounted up in Skull Keep. I figure it's long odds they get a gun crew in position before we're out of range… but it's worth mentioning."

Sly flicked his eyes over at the large gap of rocks that lead out of the bay, "Then let's make full sail for the mouth of the harbor. If you guys are ready, I say we do it _now_. Every second we dilly-dally just puts us at more risk."

"Agreed." I nodded along with Bentley.

Apparently, Sly had been reading up on sailing and now it showed, "Murray, you take up the anchor. Bentley, get below deck and adjust the ballast. I'll hoist the sails and get this thing moving." He turned to me, "Jinx, I know I'm going to regret this, but you take the helm."

My grin could likely have powered a New York city block.

"Aye-aye, Captain."

* * *

It was only after we were fifteen minutes out of harbor that I felt relaxed enough to do my happy dance and perform a stunning, though modified and censored, version of 'I'm On A Boat', after which Sly offered me half the take of the Cooper Vault in exchange for a solemn oath to never sing in his presence again.

I hit him with an oar for that.

I was then forced to turn over the helm to Murray in penance. This actually wasn't such a bad thing, especially considering the boat was considerably more wobbly than the cruise ship and I was already starting to get a little woozy.

Downstairs I went, into the lovely, dim light of below deck. I found a hammock that didn't smell too bad, took some medicine and fell asleep within minutes.

The first thing I did when I woke up at mid-morning was steal Sly's cane and spend the hour and a half before he managed to crawl out into the sunlight finding a good place to hide.

Yes, it was childish, but I felt like things had been getting a little tense lately with the gang and I desperately wanted to diffuse any stewing conflicts before they began. I wasn't sure why, exactly, because there weren't clear cut signs of discontent, but Bentley seemed to be getting a little short with, well, everyone and Sly seemed like he was just waiting for something awful to happen at the drop of a hat.

Bentley and Sly were the core of the Cooper gang. If something went wrong there, the fabric of the universe was likely to unravel at our feet.

So childish I was and childish I would continue to be until such a time as my friends no longer required me to be so. And I was totally going to mercilessly abuse my position, of course.

"JINX!"

Ah, it sounded like Sly was awake.

I glanced up at the thin boards that separated me from the deck above. I was chilling below deck in a tiny space I'd managed to squeeze into that wasn't really a room and was also extremely difficult to see. I was sitting on a beam, the purpose of which I little knew, with Sly's cane balanced across my knees and my head tiled back to better enjoy the sound of Sly raising hell trying to find both myself and his cane.

It was glorious.

Until Penelope poked her head into my hideaway.

"Why did you steal Sly's cane?"

I frantically shushed her and motioned her fully inside as I heard Sly make for the hatch below deck. After he had finished prowling around and making disconcerting growls of frustration, I answered her question in a whisper, "Because it is wonderfully shiny and there is legitimately no other way to get the upper hand with him."

She frowned and tilted her head, "I dunno, it seems to just get him mad."

"Maybe, but Sly mad is better than Sly brooding, the art of which he has perfected doing with a smile. He won't totally relax until the Cooper Vault thing is over and done with, I'm just distracting until we get to Dagger Island and he gets to dig up buried treasure."

She was silent for a moment, kicking her legs in empty space, "Do you… do you like Sly? In a romantic context, I mean."

I resisted the urge to sigh and instead looked at her sidelong, trying to discern her motives for asking. "I'm not going to get between you if you want to try for it if that's what you're asking." In all honesty, if Penelope told Sly that she liked him, he'd rather take a dive over the side of the boat than answer her in any way. Flirting may have been his main channel of communication in regards to the opposite sex, but I could not see him really taking it well if a girl confessed to him. Mostly because he was too nice to confront the idea of hurting someone's feelings in that way.

But Penelope shook her head, her eyes overlarge under her thick glass as she looked up at me and gave a sheepish little grin, "No, I really don't think Sly's my type. He's nice and everything, but from an intellectual aspect, I don't think we're really on the same level."

That actually kind of made me mad. She was just stating something she saw as fact, but every loyal fiber in my body (I had quite a lot of fibers in my body, and a good deal of them were loyal as well) wanted to rise up in Sly's defense, to inform her that he was brilliant, especially under pressure, but I bit my tongue at the last second. It wasn't like I wanted to convince her that Sly was worth her attentions. If I turned her that direction, Sly would kill me, then Bentley would find a way to bring me back to life just so he could kill me again.

I shook my head away from the thought and returned to our conversation, "So why do you ask?"

She toyed with a remote control and a tiny screwdriver she'd brought with her, "Out of curiosity, the two of you seem really close and I think you'd be a cute couple."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a controlled breath, rallying my thoughts for what would likely be a taxing conversation, but it was either this or give Sly his cane back early. That was just not happening, though I probably wouldn't have stolen the thing in the first place if I'd thought Penelope would come down for girl talk. "That's not really a question that is answerable. First of all, my ideas of romance are so radically different from the typical that we'd be talking about two separate things. Second, Sly's my closest friend, trying to view him from a romantic standpoint is just asking for trouble. Third, he's the best friend anyone could ever possibly have _ever_ and for me that is enough. Objectively, yes, he'd be a fantastic significant other," I refused to use the word boyfriend, _refused_, "but thinking that way seriously would ruin the best relationship I'd ever had in my life, especially if I started pining and he didn't feel the same way."

There was silence, then, "So you like him so much you refuse to think about it."

Now, Penelope was a smart girl and everything, but she is bad with tact and people and relationship talk and at that particular moment I wanted to double-slap her and demand to know if she'd even been listening to my little tirade. She was spared my ire by the sound of Sly yelling from above.

"Jinx if you don't bring me back my cane right now I'm going to kill you in the Hazard Room when we get home!" There was silence as he presumably waited for my reappearance and I bit my lip hard to keep from laughing, "KAIA- … Bentley, what's Jinx's middle name? I need to know so I can yell at her."

"I don't know, I'll have to look it up."

I was out of my hidey-hole in less than a second, making for the hatch to get on deck. "Don't do it, Bentley!"

Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough.

I squinted against the glare of the sun to see Sly half collapsed with laughter, using Bentley's chair for support. The turtle also seemed to be muffling snickers.

"You are bad people and should feel bad about it."

"I'd totally forgotten that was your middle name," Bentley confided, shaking his head with a smile.

Smugness was just radiating out of Sly's every pore, "Kaia Gardenia Jenks. You know, it's kind of catchy. Sort of rolls off the tongue…"

I threw my hands in the air, "My dad picked it, okay? My mom picked my first name and my dad picked my middle name, it's some sort of good luck flower or something."

"'Good luck Jinx', I love it." He looked over Bentley's shoulder again, "And your birthday is coming up! Why didn't you say anything, do you have any idea how hard it's going to be to get a cake in the middle of the ocean on such short notice?"

I threw his cane at him, "Take your stupid cane! I'm going to go back to sleep and forget waking up this morning."

"Bentley! Bentley, Google gardenias!"

I resisted the urge to push Sly off of the boat.

* * *

We were almost to Dagger Island when the other ship appeared. From the Jolly Roger they were flying and the fact that they were bringing their canons to bear, we figured they probably weren't in the mood to just conveniently ignore us.

"Jinx, get below deck!"

"Like hell! How do you fire these things?" I ran my hands over the canons like I could find some magical canon-firing button.

"I got it!" Bentley came zooming over in his magic wheelchair of magic with a coil of copper wire and flint. He was MacGyvering something together when the first cannonball hit.

Murray flung himself into the geyser of water to help the Panda Kind seal the breech, which left me wrestling with the wheel of the ship. It was a difficult balance to maintain, I couldn't let them hit us head on, but turning away provided them with a bigger target. I was more than happy to pass the wheel over to Murray as soon as I could.

"Alright, done! Canons are ready for firing, just pull the ring attached to the wire on any of them."

"Perfect timing, pal. Jinx, fire the portside canons!"

I seized the ring nearest me and pulled. The kickback of the canon caught me in the side and knocked my clear off my feet.

"Their mast is down! We can either go ahead and sink them, or you can go try and capture their ship."

"Let's just hit them one more time, I don't think we could handle two ships," Sly gave me a hand up, "That'll teach you to stand directly behind a canon."

"That canon attacked me unjustly," I insisted, putting a hand over my side. That was going to bruise.

"Let's go ahead and drop anchor," Bentley suggested, "I spotted another ship around on the other side of the island, LeFwee must have gotten here before us."

"Lovely. At least he doesn't have the map." I tightened my ponytail, "Let's go treasure hunting!"

"Sorry Jinx, just me this time. Too many bad guys on the island for a group to go sneaking around."

"Spoilsport."

* * *

It took Sly a little less than an hour to find the place where the treasure was supposedly buried. I took advantage of the time to change into a pair of cargo shorts and a short-sleeved button-down. Jogging pants and tank tops were great, but it was getting _hot_ for March.

When Sly called in that he'd found the spot to dig, no force on Earth could have stopped Dimitri from heading over to help dig it up and of course, everyone else wanted to go too. Except the Panda King and the Guru, for some reason. They were meditating or something.

Bentley, Penelope, Murray, and I stuck to the coast as we followed the trail of Dimitri, who had just been too impatient to wait for us and had run off with the shovels. By the time we caught up, he and Sly were heaving a chest out of a hole in the sand.

"Well Dimitri," Sly said, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with one hand, "It's your loot, I think you should have the honor."

Dimitri, horror of horrors, looked like he was on the verge of tears, "I open with joy. You Cooper gang is a tight groove." He opened up the chest and pulled out some hideous spandex monstrosity, "Van Gogh bull's-eye! The primo diving gear to accentuate my deep-down diving style!"

"It's so intricate!" Penelope gasped, "Your grandfather was an artist, I've never seen such fine craftsmanship!"

"Penelope," I whispered, taking a few steps over and throwing an arm around her shoulders, "Remember that talk we had about _not_ encouraging Dimitri?"

But the damage was done, "He had the juice, check it! The gear even matches my suit! I can dance, dive, and accessorize!"

Sly craned his neck at the treasure, "What else is in this chest?"

"Aye! Let's get a good look."

My head was turning to look at the voice that came from where Penelope should have been, but I barely caught sight of something red before one of my arms was forcefully wrenched behind my back.

LeFwee was to my left, standing just behind Penelope. He had his cutlass out; just close enough to the trembling mouse to make everyone uncomfortable. He didn't even have to go the traditional route of holding it to her throat, his meaning was clear. He had three of his officers with him, one of which was the fine chap who was trying to see how far he could force my arm up behind my back before my elbow shattered.

He cackled, "Avast lubbers! Didn't think you could steal from the smartest man in the seven seas and not face the repercussions." He took a moment for some evil laughter, "I might be late for the opening of the chest, but I'm just on time for the stealing of the gold."

The initial shock had past and Sly had his leader hat on, "Let Penelope and Kaia go, we can work out a deal." His voice held no fear, just authority and the slightest hint of anger.

"'Penelope' be the lass's name… purdy as a sonnet, and such a rich, sweet scent from the wench's hair."

Ewww, poor Penelope.

"Let's thump this chump!" Murray looked like he'd really enjoy getting into a fistfight with our new arrivals, but Bentley stopped him.

"No, he'll hurt them! This guy's a killer."

"Aye, ye summed me up with but a word… 'killer'." LeFwee inhaled deeply, as though savoring the term. Fortunately, he seemed to want to avoid letting Murray get his wish for a fistfight. "Away with ye, back to your ship. This gold is mine, or their death is yours… take yer choice."

"Ow! Okay, seriously," I tried to look over my shoulder at the guy who had a hold of me, "Jerking harder at that particular moment is dramatic and all, but no one can tell but me and I'm fully capable of breaking your foot."

"Kaia, shut up." Sly was thinking hard, I could see it, he didn't want to leave us there. Finally, he squared his jaw and gripped his cane tighter, "Guys, we don't have any options here. Everyone, back to the ship."

I felt my heart plummet just as Penelope burst out, "You can't just abandon us! Help, please! … I'm so scared." She whimpered.

I felt for her, I really did, she was obviously terrified, but I also wished she hadn't decided to show such blatant weakness in front of LeFwee. I didn't want to be left alone with Goreface McStabby and his merry band of murderers any more than her, but if we were going to get through this, we'd have to keep our wits.

Fortunately, Bentley took over, "Penelope, do what he says. Stay alive… we _will_ save you."

"I…" The blonde visibly swallowed her fear, "I trust you."

LeFwee was apparently done being ignored, "And _I_ trust you're still planning on lugging back to your ship. Away with ye!"

* * *

The walk to LeFwee's ship could not have been more than a few minutes, but it felt like an hour.

For this moment, I'm going to set my pride aside and admit that I'd never been more afraid in my life. Somehow, this was different than any another life threatening situation I'd been in before.

My heart was fluttering around in my chest cavity like a trapped bird, my mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this situation, and I could barely feel my arm anymore.

We reached the boat that would row us out to the ship, and one of the retrievers carrying the chest cleared his throat nervously, "Cap'n, I'm not sure the boat will hold six of us and the treasure."

"Wow, for the self-proclaimed smartest man on the seven seas, you sure don't plan ahead." It's official, I have the worst reaction to fear ever.

LeFwee slowly turned to look at me with narrow eyes, "You know, lass… I don't like you."

"Well, I don't like you either, so that's fine." Some people go completely silent, but the filter between my brain and my mouth disappears.

LeFwee turned to the crewmember who'd spoken, "Well, it's a good thing I never intended to take both of them, aye?" He pulled out a pistol, "Besides, bringing witch-eyes onboard is like to be bad luck."

My mind did not process the implications until the pistol went off.

In fact, the first thing I processed at all was that my hands were free. I looked down at where they'd clamped over a spot just under my ribs and saw red start to stream from between my fingers.

Then the pain came.

* * *

I'm more than willing to discuss Sly 4 with anyone who wants to message me! No spoilers about the secret ending, though, I haven't gotten it yet.


	17. The One With The Third Plan

Hello everyone! And welcome to all the new followers! There sure are a lot of you, wow. Sly 4 coming out has really brought some life back to the fandom! I hope you all enjoy!

Updating a little early today because tomorrow's going to be really busy for me.

On with the chapter!

* * *

My knees hit the sand first, followed by my forehead as Penelope let out a short shriek.

It hurt; it was more pain than I'd ever been in. It was heat and the most excruciating piercing and throbbing pain, all at the same time. I couldn't even pinpoint the exact place I'd been hit, the pain was just everywhere on the right side of my abdomen.

"Leave 'er for the gators, load this treasure up!" Was all I heard dimly through a rush of blood and waves.

I gasped for air because it took me a full twenty seconds to remember to breathe. Every inhalation, every heartbeat made the burning that much worse. It's not like you see in movies at all, it's not something you can brush off, getting shot. Your whole world suddenly becomes that small bit of your body that radiates agony so intense that you are immediately convinced that you are dying.

But I wasn't.

I knew I wasn't, because my hands told me that the place the blood was coming from was barely an actual bullet hole. A fraction of an inch to the right and the projectile would have just grazed me. My knowledge of my own anatomy was limited, given my screwed up DNA, but it informed me that, provided I could get help, I would survive. The fact that it wasn't fatal and still hurt that bad was something of a mystery to my mind.

I had to get to the gang. They'd stay anchored at the beach while they planned, it wasn't like they had anywhere else to go. Good Lord, how was I still able to think?

I sank my teeth into my lower lip and slowly drew one leg up to plant my foot in the sand. My vision filled with tears. I made no effort to fight them back, I'd been shot, I was allowed to cry if I felt like it. I brought my other leg up and struggled into a standing position. My vision was positively swimming now, but I was up.

Now to try walking.

* * *

It had gone against every fiber of Sly's being to leave two of his team members behind, every shred of his willpower to trudge back to his ship along with the rest of his gang.

But no amount of self-control in the world could have stopped him when he heard the gunshot and the scream.

He took off running. He knew he'd never run so fast in his life, but it still wasn't fast enough. He crested a hill and saw a small boat making its way to LeFwee's ship, but couldn't see who was on it without stopping and taking out his binocucom.

He ran right past the alligators, just barely out of their line of sight. He made it to the beach they'd just dug up and his breath caught when he saw a figure stumbling vaguely towards him.

"Kaia!" He called when he was in earshot, "What happened?!"

She stopped and looked up at him, but didn't respond. He saw why as he got closer and saw the spreading stain of red dyeing her hands and her shirt. She tried to take another step forward and somehow tripped, falling to her knees. A whine of pain forced its way out of her throat at the jar, "I don't like pirates anymore."

'At a loss' did not even begin to describe Sly's state of mind. He reached for the hybrid, then stopped, scared of hurting her more. He had never seen her like this; she always had a smart remark, made it her role in life to be one of the guys and a royal pain in the neck at the same time. He'd never seen her this vulnerable before, it was just _wrong_.

He snapped himself back to his senses in less than a second, he could worry about that later. First things first. He knelt next to her and turned on his mic. "Bentley, Kaia's been shot. She's conscious and I can get her to the boat, can you be ready for us?"

"Consider it done."

"Kaia," She looked up at him through her hair, "I'm going to pick you up now."

She glared at him, but it was a poor imitation of her usual expression, "Don't you dare-"

He did anyway, as gently as possible while still being quick enough that she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. She folded into his arms and for the first time he realized how small she was, he'd never really noticed before.

He started to run again, across the uneven island, keeping his eyes ahead and trying very hard not to look down at the blood.

"When this is all over," He was surprised to hear her speak, "I'm moving to Holland. Nothing bad ever happened to me in Holland."

Sly couldn't help a small smile. That was more like it, "Nothing bad happened to you in Australia either."

"Yeah, but I hated Australia," She inhaled sharply at a particularly rough step, "So I'm moving to Holland."

"You're going to make us relocate the entire Safehouse to Holland, aren't you?"

* * *

Bentley had almost finished laying out the meager pickings from what served as an infirmary on the ship in the captain's quarters when Sly practically kicked the door in.

"Where should I put her?"

"Here," Bentley gestured to a long table, which he had covered with the cleanest sheet he could find.

"I'm conscious, you know." Kaia hissed, staring determinedly at the ceiling.

"Yes, how are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know," Her bitingly sarcastic voice was cut off for an instant by a heavy wince when she was placed on the table, "Can't really complain. Got shot."

"I _mean_ are you in pain or shock?" Bentley was doing his best to keep her talking as he pried her hands away from the bloody part of her shirt and pulled it back.

"Pain," she hissed as he prodded at the wound, "Definitely pain. When is the shock going to kick in?"

"Hopefully never, it's not a good thing," But it was weird that she hadn't gone into shock, "Do you know what shock feels like?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me when you start to feel it."

"Can I do anything?" Sly asked, a touch desperately, from where he'd been standing out of Bentley's way.

"Yes," the turtle said, reaching for a white box, the only first aid he'd brought along, "Go get the Guru."

"Why do you need the Guru?" Kaia asked, digging her fingers into the desk in her attempts to keep still.

"I have to clean, stitch, and bandage the two holes you've acquired. That is going to be extremely painful. I could not find any sedatives."

It took her pain riddled mind a few moments to connect the dots, "So you're going to have him use his freaky mind powers to put me under?"

"Yes."

"_No._"

"Avoid getting angry, it makes your heart beat faster, which makes you bleed more. And kindly lay back down before I make you."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, "Can't you use your sleep darts?"

"Your willingness to consume drugs over hypnotism is worrying, but no, I can't. One of the ingredients in that particular cocktail is a blood thinner, which is the last thing you need right now."

Sly returned with a vocal companion.

Bentley had never been more relieved to hear the Guru's voice, "Yes, can you put Kaia in a trance or something so I can patch her up without her kicking me in the face?"

"I wouldn't kick you in the face and I swear, if you come near me Guru-" Her head dropped the two inches to the table with a slight thud immediately after the Guru began to chant and spin his Moonstone.

"Bentley, how bad is it?" Sly asked softly.

"It's not. She was lucky, it didn't even get near any organs or major veins or arteries and it went clean through. I just have to patch her up and she'll be on her feet and annoying us again sooner rather than later. We're just going to have to keep an eye out for infection and make sure she doesn't reopen the wound."

The turtle pretended not to notice the weighted sigh of relief that escaped his friend.

* * *

Waking was a singularly interesting experience.

My dreams had been many and varied, mostly a blur of colors and faces, but not unpleasant. Transitioning from dreaming to waking was slow and gradual, almost seamless; to the point where I was vastly confused when I opened my eyes and saw a ceiling.

I wondered dimly why my bed was moving, then I flexed my sleepy muscles and winced at the pain that lanced up my side. Oh. That was why.

Still, I'd apparently been upgraded to the captain's quarters, which was nice as there was an actual bed there. And my side didn't hurt half as much as it had earlier. In fact, it was such a dramatic reduction that I felt a bit like a drama queen when I recalled how I'd reacted before.

Even so, I was careful as I eased myself into a sitting position, mostly with my arms. The bandages wound around my abdomen were thick and tight, but that was somehow reassuring. My shirt had been left mostly intact, except for the bloody bottom half, which had thankfully been left undone to avoid putting pressure on the bandages.

I gradually draped my legs over the edge of the bed, smiling when I realized the object my feet touched was my backpack. That was good, I didn't want to keep wearing my bloodstained, holey shirt. Hoping against hope that no one would randomly decide to come check on me, I shrugged it off and grabbed a T-shirt at random from my bag.

"_Ow!_ … Okay, that is _so_ not happening," I muttered aloud after trying to pull on a T-shirt. That just stretched my side in a way it decidedly did not like. Unfortunately , there'd been only the one button-down and tank tops were just as out of the question as T-shirts.

I wasn't going to put back on the other button-down, so that left me with one unsavory option. Before busting me out of the mental institution, Penelope had been assigned to get me a swimsuit for the 'cruise'. It was a bikini, which was why I'd never worn it and had never intended to. Now, though, with the vast majority of my wardrobe out the window, I wasn't left with much of a choice.

It was a really weird outfit, a bikini top, cargo shorts, bare feet, and enough bandages for a Halloween costume, but it was better than the alternative.

I'd barely gotten to my feet when the boat pitched suddenly to one side, almost sending me off them. At the sound of splintering wood, I scooped my baton up off the floor and hurried outside.

"Where are the masts?! Why is the ship on _fire_?"

"Kaia what- hit that tentacle there!- what are you doing up?"

I dodged and hit the pink appendage on reflex before realization dawned, "Are we fighting a sea monster?!"

"Yes!" Sly shouted back before seizing the firing ring on one of the cannons and pulling it hard just as a giant creature appeared beside the ship, in the line of fire.

A keening noise sounded from the waters as the creature slumped against the side of the ship. I slowly made my way over. I think it was a giant squid, or something close. It was huge, that was for sure, and had one gigantic yellow eye that I could see.

As I reached Sly, the hatch behind us opened and the rest of the gang poured on deck.

"A grand battle that was!" The Panda King boomed, looking pleased for once, "Worthy of the names King and Cooper!"

"You really softened him up for me."

"That was a solid action-reaction, bros! You two stands tall!"

"Oh great, testosterone bonding." I grumbled, heaving myself up to sit on one of the cannons, "Fantastic."

Fortunately, Bentley seemed to not want to take part in the post-battle, slapping each other on the back fest, "Say Guru," He muttered aloud, eyes narrow in thought, "Could you get inside this creature's mind?"

The Guru muttered contemplatively.

"That's a brilliant idea! ... But do you think you can pull it off?"

The koala chuckled sadistically.

"Then let's do it, just take any precautions necessary."

Sly apparently had just started to pay attention, "What's he trying to do?"

"Get us a new ally here in the sea." Bentley said over the sound of the Guru's chanting.

The large eye focused suddenly on the Guru and stayed there for a moment before the sea monster turned and disappeared under the waves.

I jumped when a tentacle shot out of the water, wrapped around the Guru, and pulled him in after it.

"Master! Don't leave us!" Murray called into the fog.

"Don't worry, he's fine," Bentley assured the distraught hippo as the ship shuddered and began to move. "He and Crusher are going to tow us to where we left the other ships we captured from the Red Sail Sea-Dogs, this one is on its last legs."

"Wait, we have other ships? Who are the Red Sail Sea-Dogs; will no one fill me in?" I was starting to wonder if I'd have to take up ribbon-twirling to get some attention.

Finally, Sly looked over at me, though not with answers. "What are you doing up?" I crossed my arms and glared at him, refusing to answer. He averted his eyes, "And what are you _wearing_?"

My face flushed as I threw my hands up in the air (but not that high, because that hurt), "Getting a tee on over the bandages hurts and I only had one button-down, what do you want from me?"

Fortunately, Bentley, the voice of sanity, took over then, "Well, you're looking lively, Kaia."

I waved him off airily, playing off the situation as much as I could, "Just a little bullet. Aside from the oddest craving for peanut brittle, I'm fine."

"Oh yes," The turtle's tone was dry, "Just a little bullet that had you out of commission of two days."

"… What?" Was he serious? "Two days? It felt like an hour." I had no sense of space or direction, but up until then I'd always been able to rely on my sense of time.

"Nope, two days." Sly was rubbing his forehead as though he had a migraine, "The Guru put you in some kind of trance to speed the healing process."

"Oh he is _so_ lucky he's in the water right now." I shuddered at the thought. That was just creepy. Plus side, it explained why I wasn't writhing in pain anymore. That was good for my dignity.

"You weren't supposed to wake up until you were fine again. I'm guessing that's not the case."

I didn't let Bentley do any more fishing than that, hopping to my feet instead, "I'm fine enough to help out. And don't you dare tell me I'm not allowed, Penelope's my friend too, I want to do what I can." It was true, she was annoying as sin sometimes, but she was still a friend. That won Bentley over, so I kept talking before Sly could say anything. "So, what's the plan?"

Bentley turned to the hatch below deck, "Let me set up the slideshow and explain it to everyone at once."

* * *

"You do know," I mused in Sly's direction, picking at the sleeve that was engulfing my arm, "That Carmelita runs around in less than that, right?"

"That's different." Sly had disappeared shortly before the briefing and returned with a button-down he used for one of his disguises. It looked like a dress on me, but it was better than nothing.

"I'd ask how, but you'd lie."

"Can we get started _please_? Thank you. Now, Operation: Reverse Double-Cross. Our objective, as we all know, is to save Penelope. Given her crafty nature, LeFwee has undoubtedly locked her up in one of his most secure locations. They are one, the Skull Keep and two, the brig of the Death's Head."

"His ship is called the Death's Head? Wow, someone's sure of his lethality." I muttered, wrestling to roll up the cuffs on the monster of a shirt Sly had insisted on me wearing.

Bentley just sighed and continued. I felt bad, he must have really been worried about Penelope. "Our team is too small to assault both simultaneously, so we'll have to fall back on a little sleight of hand. First, we sail into harbor and exchange broadsides with the Death's Head. Armed with the element of surprise and our canon upgrades, it should be a fair fight."

"Should? That doesn't inspire confidence."

"The Death's Head has specially armored bulkheads. It won't be easy to sink; and we're not going to try. Penelope might be on board, so we cannot sink this ship. As soon as the masts fall, Sly should jump on the enemy ship and then promptly surrender."

"Ummm… what?"

_Finally_ Bentley turned and gave me his 'quit interrupting' glare. For a moment there, I thought he'd lost the ability to access it. "It's a necessary step for _two reasons_. First, that ship is _packed_ with pirates, _way_ too many to fight hand-to-hand. And second, it's our best chance to get an audience with LeFwee. Given his smug nature, he's sure to brag where she's hidden if we can get him angry enough. You hear that, Sly? Irritate the _daylights_ out of this guy! It's our best and only chance to rescue Penelope."

Watching a plan come to light was a nice moment for Sly and he grinned, "A job I was born for."

"Once he talks, we roll out plan A or B, depending on the situation. This LeFwee is a smart man, our only hope is to outsmart him at his own game."

"How do we outsmart him when he's the one making the rules?" I asked. I was a little concerned Bentley hadn't noticed the flaw in his plan, "If he's so smart, he'll know that we don't know where Penelope is, he could easily lie once Sly gets him mad."

I was actually treated to a small grin from Bentley, "Now you're thinking like a thief. That's why we have secret plan C."

Sly sat up a little straighter, "What do you mean?"

"Taking our adversary's intellect into consideration, I viewed the situation from his perspective. If it were me, I'd do just as Kaia said and lie about Penelope's location. I'd set up a trap."

* * *

"You're sure you're up for this?"

"For the billionth time, _yes_." I assured the overbearing raccoon, gingerly refastening the buttons on my bloody shirt around the bandages. "There's a ton of guys on that ship, right? The more we can freak them out the better. Besides, I get to channel my inner Ring girl." I finally finished with the evil buttons and turned, "Well, how do I look?"

He shook his head with a slight smile, "Like death warmed over."

"Excellent. Bentley, I'm ready to go!"

The turtle rolled up to us, "Alright, Kaia. We'll only need you and the Guru if we have to implement plan C, so try not to draw attention unless we call for you, this is a delicate operation."

"Don't worry, we'll just chill at the bottom of the ocean with the sea monster, we'll have cake." I carefully pulled myself up to stand on the railing of the ship, "Okay, when's my ride getting here?"

Bentley put two fingers to his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The next thing that happened, I can only describe as an earthquake in the ocean. The ship shuddered and the water on the side where I stood began to bubble and froth until, finally, Crusher emerged, the Guru clenched in one tentacle like a little sea monster teddy bear.

"Well… that's convenient."

I waited, toying with a fraying part of the rigging while Bentley explained the plan to the Guru. When he was finished, Crusher went partially under the waves so I could step over to the little tentacle thing on its head and loop an arm around the top of it to hang on.

"Remember, Jinx… don't jinx us."

"You know what my theory is, Sly?" I paused a moment for dramatic effect, "I'm pretty sure I have nothing to do with your bad luck. And Bentley, don't worry. We'll get Penelope back."

The turtle blushed, then huffed and looked pointedly _over there_. Sly laughed and waved me off as I saluted and plunged under the waves with Crusher and the Guru.

* * *

Even I have to admit, the Guru has some pretty nifty powers. At that particular moment, he was using his telekinesis to form air bubbles for us both.

We really were chilling on the bottom of the ocean. It was really pretty cool, being able to see clearly that far down. Of course, there was no wildlife nearby because of our pink friend, but that was okay. I was busy listening to the canon fire.

At least, I had been, until about ten minutes previous. At the moment, it was mostly a 'waiting with baited breath' sort of situation.

Then we heard the explosion.

In the distance, the Cooper ship arced away from the Death's Head and back toward us. Plan C it was, then.

I had a brief second to think 'Gee, I hope no one's dead' before the air bubble surrounding my head vanished and I got doused with sea water. Bentley's theory had proven accurate, the salt water caused the dye powder in my fur to dissipate a lot faster than normal. Before long, the gross yellow was gone and my fur was white again.

A shadow fell over our merry little group. About time Bentley got here, I was running out of air.

Crusher shuddered and rose at the sound of Bentley's shout. I held on tight as we broke the surface of the water and almost slipped off my perch.

"'Tis Crusher… Crusher!" Haha, seemed like they were already panicking. I looked down at the scattering pirates, "And the girl with witch-eyes! She's here to curse us!" Why did they always call me a witch?

Still, the whole point of my dressing up in bloody clothes and turning white again was to play to the superstitions of these pirates.

So, for the first time in my life, I used the uneven pitch of my voice to my advantage and threw my head back to let out a throat-tearing cackle as the Guru and Crusher cleared the deck of any pirates who were trying to stop Bentley from rescuing Penelope rather than abandoning ship as fast as possible. The screams of fear were peculiarly satisfying.

Bentley was using a tool that seemed to be a combination of a sonic screwdriver and a Swiss-army knife to open up the locks to the brig and was moving surprisingly fast across the ship as it pitched side-to-side while Crusher pounded on it. When he finally got the thing open, Penelope jumped out and even I had to say that that was a pretty dress she was wearing.

Then LeFwee freaking _materialized_ and put a sword to Penelope's back. I groaned aloud, but kudos to the girl for not freaking out this time and instead giving LeFwee a 'Seriously?' look over her shoulder.

"Call off yer squid or the girl gets it!" demanded the Least Creative Man on the Seven Seas.

"Back off Guru, I'll handle this."

Wait…. What? Even as Crusher moved away, I opened my mouth to object Bentley going up against the killer, no matter how confident he seemed, but then he looked over at me. He made eye contact, then flicked his eyes upward for an instant.

I followed his gaze and… was that a speck of blue? I looked closer and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. How did Sly get all the way up there?

As LeFwee was monologue-ing, Sly circled the ships a few times to decrease in altitude then, just when LeFwee looked like he was going to run Bentley through, Sly angled down and landed between the parrot and Penelope.

What happened next happened almost too fast to follow. LeFwee swung with his cutlass, Sly brought his cane up to deflect the blow, but it was too fast for him to block perfectly. He stumbled back and tripped over Bentley's wheelchair, simultaneously knocking the turtle to the deck and losing his balance completely. He went over the rail.

"_Sly!_"

I jumped from Crusher to the deck of the Death's Head. It was quite the fall and I landed weird on my ankle, but I ran to the railing anyway. Just bubbles in the water, no sign of the raccoon. Why, oh why had I put off teaching him how to swim?

I dimly heard Bentley call for the Guru to get Sly and saw Penelope jumping between LeFwee and Bentley with her own sword out of the corner of my eye as I planted a foot on the railing and heaved myself up and over. I could feel the new skin at my side stretching taut and tearing under bandages and that plastic that had been meant to protect the wound from water, but I ignored it.

I hit the water hard and immediately began looking around for Sly. Where was he? I finally thought to look downwards and spotted him, but he wasn't moving. My heart stopped, but I dove down and grabbed him around the middle. I struggled to kick to the surface, hoping he was just stunned.

He was heavy though, heavy and waterlogged and for a moment I didn't know if I was going to make it to the surface before I ran out of air myself, but then pink entered my peripheral vision. Crusher had taken his sweet time, but maybe that was just the adrenaline talking…

A tentacle wrapped around Sly and I and I wondered briefly why the tightening appendage didn't seem to be hurting the wound on my side, then decided I didn't care and willed us more quickly toward the surface.

We broke the surface and Crusher dumped us as gently as was possible for a giant squid onto the deck of the Cooper ship. I crawled over to the limp thief and rolled him onto his back. A quick and panicked check told me he wasn't breathing and if there was a pulse, I couldn't find it.

My mind went utterly blank, "Sly!" I called, gripping two fistfuls of the front of his shirt and shaking him, "Sly, you have got to hear me and wake up, _I_ _don't know CPR!_" His head flopped back and forth unresponsively.

I was such an _idiot!_ When Bentley had half-heartedly thrown me the roll of field-medic, I'd done a ton of research into first-aid, but I'd never learned _stupid_ CPR! That should have been the first thing I did, especially since Sly didn't know how to swim! I knew the basic theory, pretty much everyone does, but that was not going to help me! I didn't know how to position the head so the air went into the lungs and not the stomach, I didn't know where to put my hands for chest compressions, I didn't know what to do!

In a moment of raw panic, I threw my right arm somewhere behind my let ear and backhanded Sly as hard as I could.

He woke up fighting, which was good for my heart, but bad for my face. He got in a solid left hook before I could pull back out of his range and almost landed a kick to my ribs before becoming preoccupied with coughing, spluttering, and emptying the contents of his stomach and what seemed like half the ocean onto the deck.

I probably would have been more sympathetic if I wasn't in the process of running my tongue along the inside of my mouth to make sure my teeth were still in place. When I tasted blood, I couldn't bring up the enthusiasm to do more than just sigh, glance over to make sure Sly was still conscious (he was, and looking around like he wasn't quite sure what he was doing alive), and flop onto my stomach.

"Sly," I said, concentrating on the movement of the ship and the feel of my cheek against the wood so I could fight back both the urge to burst into tears of relief and the urge to throw up out of the after-effects of anxiety, "As soon as we get a chance, I'm teaching you how to swim. And if you try to bail on me I swear by all that is considered holy, I will kill you until you are sorry."

I felt him drag himself over to me and lay down as well, so I risked opening my eyes a bit. His were closed and his breathing was controlled, like he was consciously enjoying it. He finally opened his eyes just a little bit as well and cracked a grin, speaking in a whisper and extending his hand a few inches out to me, "Fair enough."

I took his hand and smiled back.

* * *

And- done! See, I didn't give you a cliffhanger this time! But Bloodbath Bay is over now, so we're getting towards the end of the story. I hope you enjoy what's to come!


	18. The One With The All At Once

I like this chapter! It is a fun chapter.

I've gotten suggestions from a few people that I should make Ahanu and Ritsuka a spin-off story. What do you guys think about this? I'm not saying I'll do it, I'd just like to know your thoughts.

On with the chapter!

* * *

"I can't believe you hit me," Sly said for the fifth time, probing his jaw with the hand that wasn't in a sling, "I'm pretty sure that's not a medically recognized form of resuscitation."

"Yeah well you're alive aren't you? And you hit me back and I got a lovely little cut in my mouth that keeps me from eating oranges, so don't even start because if we're complaining, I'll win." I scratched idly at the wrap on my ankle. No one had come away from Blood Bath Bay unscathed except the Panda Kind (guy was made of adamantium or something, seriously) and Dimitri (who seemed to have fallen in love with himself).

Bentley and Penelope, however, seemed to have come out on top anyway. They were over at the front of the ship, putting their heads together, smiling and giggling over something it would probably take at least one doctorate to understand. Somehow, it was cute anyway.

"Well, in my defense I didn't know it was you." Sly and I were perfectly happy to sit on a pair of barrels and poke fun at each other while not speaking of anything serious under unspoken agreement. Our system, it worked.

"Well in _my_ defense I don't know CPR."

"Yeah, what's the deal with that?"

"Oh, shut up." I ran my tongue over the inside of my cheek where my teeth had cut into the skin, "And since _when_ are you left handed?"

"I'm not, I'm ambidextrous."

"I _hate_ you."

"To be honest, though." He leaned back against the mast bonelessly. "I'm surprised you actually freaked out that much. You don't seem to get scared of anything but heights."

I gave him a look that question the state of his mentality. "Um, Sly, are you serious? Because if you are then you should see a doctor because you have gone blind and that is bad. I get scared _all the time_."

He gave me an amused grin, "Seriously?"

"Yes, '_seriously_'. Just because I deal with it by cracking wise instead of huddling in a corner and giving in to a panic attack doesn't mean I'm not scared."

"Aw, look at you, so brave! Come, cry into my manly bosom."

"Bentley! Bentley, Sly's sexually harassing me!"

The turtle just rolled his eyes at us.

"Pssh, that's not sexual harassment. _This _is sexual harassment." Sly took off his hat, set it aside and ran a hand through his hair before leaning even more against the mast, giving me this sly little grin, and speaking in a voice made of velvet, "That cut you mentioned... want me to kiss it better?"

I just stared at him as I took a minute to really visualize that suggestion, "How has Carmelita not shot you yet?"

"I'm just too charming."

"Uh-huh."

"Though, speaking of Carmelita," Sly dusted off his hat idly and flipped it up back onto his head, "I do believe this is the first time in memory that she hasn't shown up after a heist and hauled everyone off to jail."

"Really? Wow, she must be tearing her hair out back in Paris. We should send her a post card or something."

"That is an _excellent _idea."

* * *

Carmelita Montoya Fox had never considered herself a particularly violent person, but at that precise moment she really wanted to just start breaking things.

It had been nearly a month and not only had Cooper disappeared from the face of the Earth, but he'd taken Kaia Jenks with him. Allegedly. This meant an unwelcome addition to her office.

Speaking of which.

She turned a persecuted gaze over to the loveseat that had replaced her ostentatious safe. The intruder had his legs dangling over one armrest and his back propped against the other as he perused a file, reading glasses perched precariously on the tip of his nose. She wasn't quite sure what sort of file he was reading, but considering he had a stack of identical files a foot and a half tall within reach, she figured it probably wasn't relevant.

Inspector Garter was, to be fair, a good agent; before being assigned the Jenks case, his solve rate had been perfect. The problem was that their cases were directly linked and they were not only expected to work together and help each other, they were required to. So, since Paris was where the Cooper gang had first been incriminated in a crime and was therefore the center of the investigation, Garter had relocated from an office in London to Carmelita's loveseat.

It wasn't just that she didn't want anyone interfering in the case she'd spent years working on, though that was a large portion of her ire; her style of investigation and his did not mesh at all. She preferred to hit the streets to gather information, maybe jam her shock pistol into a few faces. He just sat there, a cup of tea at hand; looking over obscure reports that, going from the amount of dust on them, hadn't seen the light of day for years.

To add to that, he was extremely condescending. He was cooperative, sure, and openly acknowledged her as the authority on the subject of the Cooper gang, but she got the feeling he didn't believe she could do more than lace up her own boots, for all he was at least a year younger than her both in age and Interpol experience.

They had never actually argued, but had come very close. Currently, they hadn't exchanged words for almost two hours. Carmelita just wanted to be able to pace her office in peace, something she always did when she thought. She'd pace, take a few shots at the beat-up punching bag hanging in the corner, and drink coffee.

The fox took a glance over at the coffee pot sitting on her desk. It was woefully empty.

"I think I found something."

She took a deep, calming breath.

He continued, "Remember the connection we discovered between Venice and Holland?"

She'd discovered it, but she decided to be tactful and not point that out, "In Venice, Cooper aided the escape of the fugitive Dimitri and in Holland, there's evidence that his gang recruited a local Remote Control specialist by the name of Penelope." Unable to discover what these out-of-character actions meant at the time, they'd stopped looking into them after the arrest of Kaia Jenks in China.

Garter took another report from the middle of his stack, somehow managing not to knock it over, and added it to the report in his hand before offering them to her, "I found similar connections for Australia and China.

_That_ got Carmelita's attention. She quickly strolled over to pick up the reports. They were thin and pristine, showing they were minor details filed for the sake of formality or policy. Opening up the first, the static electricity of the paper offered some resistance, showing Garter had likely been the first one to open it since it had been filed.

"In the follow-up investigation of the events in Australia, investigators were directed by locals to question a local guru, known for his mastery of the mystic art of Dreamtime. He reportedly lived near Ayer's Rock, where the largest concentration of miners was found. Investigators found two potential places of residence, but were unable to find the guru. It was speculated that he may have been killed by the miners, but no evidence was found to substantiate this… You think the Cooper gang recruited this guy?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Her fellow Inspector pulled a small cloth out of his pocket and ran it over his glasses. "But nothing was stolen from the mining operation, was it? And plenty of opals were lying around that would have made a fortune on the black market. The only thing the Cooper gang seemed to do was make life hell for the miners. It's possible that the guru may have recruited _them_ to help clear out the area in exchange for his services. Don't give me that look, it doesn't matter if I believe this guru can perform feats of supernatural prowess, it matters if they do. Take a look at the other report."

Carmelita flipped through it, "It's an interview with a woman named Jing King, Tsao's unwilling bride-to-be before we crashed the wedding. She vanished from his estate the night before they were to be wed and, out of local concern for her well-being, a missing-person's report was filed. She was found over three hundred kilometers from the estate, staying with a relative. When asked, she said her father had rescued her and had left to provide aid to the nobleman who had helped him execute her escape… Wait, Jing King? Is her father-"

"The Panda King? He is. And it's possible the agent mistook the translator saying 'noble man' when he wrote it down as 'nobleman'."

"So that's… four people. Three we know for sure are in Cooper's debt, the fourth, going from the pattern, probably is as well."

"Well, you're the expert," Garter unfolded himself from the couch and stood, "Why would Cooper need that many people?"

"I'm not sure… the Cooper gang tends to keep to themselves and just pull the jobs they can with their skill-set, which doesn't really narrow it down. But if they need _that_ much specialized talent…" Carmelita drummed her fingertips against her forehead in thought, "The Panda King is a fireworks artist turned crime-lord, turned monk. That girl from Holland, Penelope, she's an RC specialist. The Guru… the art of Dreamtime? We need to look that up. Dimitri is a world-class forger. And who know what Kaia can do by now? What could Cooper possibly be up to…?"

"I have an idea where to start looking." Garter reached over and selected a file he had put aside some time ago, "A month before Cooper surfaced in New York and recruited Jenks, there were a handful of convenient security glitches at Heathrow Prison. Aside from finding a way to repair the equipment, there wasn't much panic because, after a thorough roll call, it was discovered that no one had escaped."

To her surprise, Carmelita found herself following his train of thought, "You think that the security glitches were because someone got in?"

He nodded and gave a thin smile, "Got in and got out, very quickly. Dimitri and the Panda King were both incarcerated at this prison at the time, but what really interests me is this man." He passed the file over.

This file was heavy in Carmelita's hands, the edges were worn as though it had been handled many times by many different people and pictures and notes stuck out slightly where they were paper-clipped to relevant pages. She opened it up, "James McSweeny?"

"I'll summarize, as going through that file in its entirety would take all night. McSweeny was well-known for several burglaries and brawls, your typical criminal muscle man until about thirty years ago when he met a man named Connor Cooper. That's right, Cooper's old man had a team too and this guy was their heavy-hitter. Thirteen years ago, he turned himself in to the surprise of the authorities. Three days later, Connor Cooper was murdered."

"You think Cooper snuck in to meet with McSweeny?" Carmelita asked, flipping through the latter half of the file, "It would certainly fit."

"I do. McSweeny might have clued him in to something. We find out what that was, and we can find Cooper."

Carmelita grinned, feeling her fatigue vanish. Finally, a lead. "Well," She snapped the file closed and planted a hand on her hip, looking up at her impromptu partner, "Looks like we're going to Heathrow."

* * *

"She is going to kill you the next time she sees you," I informed Sly as he walked out of the 'post office'. We'd anchored in at a little island that barely qualified as civilization, but it had an air strip and a mailing center, so it was able to accommodate our few needs.

He smiled and tipped his pirate hat (I'm not kidding, he stole the thing back from Murray, apparently), "Always nice to know you think of my health, Jinx."

"Well someone has to, you certainly don't give the job much thought." I fell into step with him, threading my fingers together behind my back and looking around. The island town was small, but it wasn't so bad. There was an oil rig a few miles out to sea, which meant there was a boosted population, but not nearly enough to turn this place into a tourist trap, probably due to its remote location and the lack of beaches. The locals seemed nice, though Sly was the one doing all the talking, I didn't even know what language they were speaking. All in all... not too bad. "So, what did Bentley ask us to get? Not like this isn't a thinly veiled excuse for him and Penelope to get some time by themselves, of course."

The raccoon at my side chuckled, "Of course." Having decided just to go straight for the Cooper Vault without heading back to Paris (as the police were probably still looking for us there and we were pretty close to the island where the vault was anyway), Bentley sent everyone out to get supplies.

Food, water, essentials and such were being handled by the Panda King, the Guru, and Murray. Sly and I were to find some specialty parts for the gang and some specifics requested by Bentley and Penelope. The geeks in question were either having a romantic candlelight dinner on the ship, or they snuck off somewhere for a date. My money was on the candlelight dinner, Sly's was on the date.

Dimitri had slunk off somewhere to 'find the party beat in this joint'. He had informed us not to expect him back until sunrise. We had unanimously decided to leave him there should he not show up by noon.

Sly pulled a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and opened it up, "Apparently, they need gas for Penelope's RC chopper and car, sulfur and potassium nitrate for the Panda King, and hydrochloric acid. I don't know who put that on the list and I don't want to know."

"Well, you never know when hydrochloric acid will come in handy." I ignored the horrified look I received and skipped ahead a bit, "_So_, I'm thinking we can find a bunch of this stuff at a local high school chemistry lab, if they have one, or any sort of hardware store. Shall we get started?"

It was a rare and enjoyable treat to be able to stroll the streets with Sly without either of us having to wear a disguise. We wandered and got a bite to eat before finally getting down to business when the sun started to set.

When we'd collected everything we needed, we headed back to the dock. The rowboat Murray used, in addition to the two lifeboats the ship had, were docked there. Sly untied ours while I got in and steadied the boat.

"One thing I do like about the ocean," I confessed to Sly as we rowed toward where the ship was anchored, "Is how much sky there is to see."

"You are such a sap."

I kicked him lightly, "Seriously, though! Look over there!" I pointed off into the distance, where the barest sliver of sun was still illuminating the surrounding clouds, "See those really bright clouds that are somehow pink and orange at the same time? If I could pick only one color to see for the rest of my life, that would be it."

"If I only had to pick one, do you know what it would be?"

"What?"

"Hey, I asked you, _I'm_ not telling."

I kicked him harder this time.

* * *

I rubbed my head as I walked up the stairs to the deck. After Sly and I had returned to the ship, no one had come back for nearly three hours. About eleven, I decided to go ahead and go to sleep, I was really tired for some reason; Sly stayed up to wait for everyone.

I'd woken up to the sound of some sort of commotion on deck. It didn't sound like anyone was fighting or being attacked, which was why I was shuffling instead of sprinting, but I was still wondering why anyone would be making so much noise at midnight-thirty.

I opened up the hatch and, with a 'pop!' my face was attacked by colors and the smell of sulfur.

I would've reacted, probably by yelping and batting the colorful paper away from my face, but my arms were pinned to my sides by a bear hug.

"Happy Birthday, Kaia! I'm glad you were born!"

"Wh-" I found myself looking over Sly's shoulder at a completely transformed deck. What looked like Christmas lights had been strung through the rigging, from which tiny paper lanterns hung as well. A long table laid out with every party food I could possibly imagine also housed champagne poppers, like the one Sly had just loosed in my face, noisemakers, and various other things, not the least of which was a small mountain of presents. "What?"

Sly laughed and I was spun around to face the rest of the gang, "It's March twenty-fifth as of thirty-two minutes ago, happy nineteenth birthday!"

I was floored, even as he pushed me forward, "Guys, you didn't have to make a big deal out of my birthday."

"Maybe not, but it sure was fun," Murray was the next person to come over and hug me. I was still having trouble processing what I was seeing.

Once I was freed, I looked around again, noticing something, "Hey, where's the Panda King?"

"Oh, I am so glad you asked," Bentley said with a smile, nodding toward the island.

I turned to follow his line of sight and didn't see anything at first. Then I heard two faint sounds in the distance and an instant later, the sky exploded into color. Fireworks. They were shooting off fireworks for my birthday.

It caught up to me then. You know that feeling, when you're just so happy the you tear up and have to fight back the urge to make very strange, high-pitched noises? It can't just be me that gets that feeling, right?

I coughed to cover up said feeling and tried to control the grin that was threatening to break my face, "Thanks, guys."

* * *

The night passed in a blur of colors and music and a truly outrageous amount of activity. I'm pretty sure that Dimitri slipped something into the drinks when he got back and found out there was party he hadn't been invited to, considering I woke up in the captain's quarters and had no idea how I got there. It would also explain the dancing.

I shoved Sly's ridiculously heavy arm off of my shoulders and noted with amusement that he appeared to be defying gravity by simply still being on the bed; considering the only parts of his body that were actually supported by the mattress were a single leg, an arm, and where he seemed to have wedged his head between the bed-frame and the side table.

I wasn't really that surprised by his presence. He had a tendency to make a beeline for the nearest warm object in his sleep; it wasn't the first time I'd woken up to find him half-sprawled on top of me, even if he'd previously been on the other side of the room or in another room entirely. He swore up and down that he sleepwalked. I suspected he had nightmares and too much pride to admit it.

I eased off the bed as quietly as I could, an effort rendered moot when I stood and a vast majority of my skeleton decided to crack loudly with a volume to rival popping bubble wrap. Still, Sly slept like the dead so I was free to lace my fingers and stretch my arms over my head, pleased to find that my side no longer stung at the effort. Goodbye, Sly's over-sized shirts; hello, wearing my own clothes!

Speaking of, I needed to change as soon as possible. I hated sleeping in clothes that weren't pajamas, it made me feel like my skin had generated another layer overnight. Fortunately, there was a dressing screen in the room and my backpack hadn't moved from the corner, so I was able to realize my desire for clean clothes rather quickly.

I felt infinitely better, stepping out into pale, grey light of the early morning. It seemed to dissipate my slight headache immediately. I made a mental note to remove one of Dimitri's limbs at the earliest convenient opportunity. Preferably as a celebratory action after the successful completion of the Cooper Vault job.

I shook my hair out as I felt the cool breeze coming off the waves slide through my fur. The world was so still early in the morning; it was a phenomenon I was usually unconscious for. I'd probably leave the realm of consciousness pretty soon, but it was nice to witness the sunrise on one's birthday. It wasn't really a tradition of mine, but I did make a note to do it whenever I remembered.

Everyone else was presumably below deck, considering I didn't see them around, though it wouldn't be that big a deal if a certain salamander had fallen overboard during the night. Not at all.

I'd made my way to the stern, as it was the part of the boat facing east and therefore offered the best view, before I heard the door to the captain's room swing shut.

"Why're you 'wake?"

I almost laughed. That was the most articulate I'd ever heard Sly be within the first hour after he awoke, "I'm watching the sun come up, why are you?"

"Y'took all th' warm with you." He somehow made it up the stairs to half collapse against the railing, "Sun's not that special."

I rolled my eyes with a smile, "It is on my birthday. And I've seen you take a nap half-buried in a snowdrift."

"Extenuating circumstances." Apparently those two words were quite enough for his pre-coffee brain because he let out the rest of his breath in a huff and buried his face in one arm as the sun started to glow against the horizon.

I shook my head, the smile not leaving my face as I curiously ran a hand through his hair, wondering how it could defy gravity as it was currently doing and still be soft. Seriously, it had seemed to form a sort of alliance to congregate completely on the left side of his head and from there look like an electrical experiment gone wrong. I silently blamed it on the fact that he always wore a hat.

"Are you happy?"

I was kind of surprised and kind of not by the question. On the one hand, it seemed to come completely out of the blue, on the other Sly had seemed kind of pre-occupied lately and since he'd just woken up his defenses weren't quite in place yet, so it was likely he'd just say whatever was on his mind. It was probably one of the reasons he avoided talking after having just woken up.

"Of course I am. I'm an exceedingly selfish person, Sly; if I wasn't happy, I wouldn't be here." It was true. If I didn't want to stay with the gang, I'd just disappear one day and leave a note that declared I'd gone off to save the endangered kittens of Zanzibar or something else completely ridiculous. It would be the only way to leave without making it into a huge deal and not hurting anyone's feelings in the process. It felt kind of weird to know I'd already planned that out, for no conceivable reason.

"It's dangerous, though. You got hurt, coulda died."

"If I died today and then got to live my life straight through again, I'd do the same thing." Also true, I'd lived more in nineteen years than most people could claim for a lifetime. "Though I'd probably try to avoid dying the second time around."

He made an odd humming noise; I couldn't tell whether it was satisfaction with my answer or something else, mostly because he then sighed lightly and tilted his head to the side so my fingers would go behind his ear.

Once upon a time, I'd read a quote in a brilliant book written by a brilliant man about a girl and a boy: "I fell in love with him like I fell asleep; very slowly, then all at once."

Standing at the railing, one hand buried in Sly's mussed up, slightly sweaty hair; I had my all at once.

With irritation, I punched the conviction in the face and sent it scurrying into a dark corner of my mind to think about what it had done. It wasn't really surprising; in fact I'd been expecting it for some time now, hence the 'very slowly' part of the quote, ever since my chest cavity had started feeling warmer whenever Sly was nearby. I'd loved him as a friend since Prague and we'd only gotten closer as time passed.

I'd just hoped to hold off on feeling anything more at least until after the Cooper Vault job, mostly because I was so bad at hiding emotions I wasn't used to experiencing. He'd know something was up within a handful of hours and I was not looking forward to that conversation; we were both far too stubborn for it to go well. Hopefully I could hold it at bay at least until after the Cooper Vault and come up with a more permanent solution then. I determinedly did not think about what that would be.

So immersed was I in my thoughts, I jumped when Sly let out a low groan, "Sun's up, can we go back to bed now?"

I laughed, "Yes, Sly, yes we can."

* * *

"Well, _that_ was a complete waste of time." Carmelita muttered irately, unwinding the scarf from around her neck and hanging up her coat.

"Oh, ye of little faith." Kristian didn't bother removing his outerwear, instead coming around to stand by her desk while she sat and let her head fall against the surface.

"He didn't tell us _anything_. I've never seen someone clam up like that, especially with the offer of cutting his sentence to time served. Usually they'll at least make something up if they think it will get them out of prison."

"What if that's the point?"

She only lifted her eyes from her folded arms to have them question his mental status. He sighed.

"Come on, I know you're not that thick. Think about it. If you were trying to avoid a criminal, a smart, cunning, dangerous one with almost a zero percent chance of getting caught, what would you do? Yes, I know _you_ would arrest and/or shoot him, but think about it. McSweeny turned himself in. Just a few days later, his known partner was murdered. You really don't think there's a link?"

Carmelita sat up straighter, her eyes snapping to focus directly ahead of her, "You're right. How did I not see that?"

He decided it was in his best interest not to answer. "When you met Cooper, what was your impression? The very first time you saw him, what were you thinking?" Kristian watched intently as she remembered, it didn't take more than a moment.

"It was at the opera… he was on the roof. I think it was one of his first jobs, he was going after a diamond. He wasn't at all like he is now, his clothes were worn and he was still a little clumsy, especially with the tools he was using."

"Worn out clothes?" That confirmed it, "Inspector Fox, what would you say the Cooper Clan's fortune might be like?"

The fox ran a hand through her dark bangs, "Incalculable. Even without what Sly has accumulated, his family's wealth, just what we've confirmed they've taken and not even adding up all the things they've been accused of taking..."

"A master thief worth more than his weight in diamonds was sitting on top of a roof with second-hand tools and ragged clothes?"

It was with satisfaction that he saw the light come on behind her eyes, "He never got his inheritance."

"So where is everything the Coopers stole?"

She stood, "You think McSweeny told him where to find it?"

"I definitely think it's a possibility," Kristian took a step back and rubbed his forehead, "But that doesn't tell us where it is or why he needed to recruit all of those people."

"Or… maybe it does." Carmelita went to her filing cabinet and unlocked it, "Sly Cooper's gang consists of himself, Murray, and Bentley; a thief, a muscle-man, and a strategist."

Kristian was not used to not being able to follow a train of thought, "So?"

"So…" Inspector Fox pulled a file from the very back of the cabinet and slapped it onto her desk. "Who was Connor Cooper's strategist?"

_Now_ he could follow, "You think the strategist has the Cooper money? If he betrayed Connor Cooper to the Fiendish Five gang so he could have all of the loot to himself; that would explain who McSweeny was trying to escape by turning himself in… That would also explain why Cooper needs all that extra help, how would you rob a criminal who has a thirteen year head-start on security?"

"Exactly," Carmelita was scanning one of the back pages of the file when she abruptly stopped and pointed about halfway down the page, "Here it is."

Kristian leaned over her shoulder, "Dr. M?"

She nodded, "Inspector Berkley, my predecessor, headed up the Connor Cooper case. He always suspected that there was a member he never got to see and, after spotting Dr. M at a scene, he was convinced that it was him. He could never find any leads on him, though, he was incredibly careful."

"Okay," The cougar dropped onto the loveseat he had claimed for himself and closed his eyes, "So now we know who the Cooper gang is stealing from and what they're stealing. The question is, where are they stealing it from? We can hardly put out a world-wide search for a paranoid ex-criminal under the pseudonym Dr. M."

"Maybe not," Carmelita had picked up her mail and flipped through it, before halting at a particular piece and drawing it out of the file, "But I think I know where to start looking."

Kristian stood and strode over to her, taking the postcard and looking it over. After that, he had only one thing to say.

"Get your coat."

* * *

...

I feel like I should be hiding.

Also, apologies for any typos, it's two in the morning here.


	19. The One With The Vault Job

Oh man, it feels like forever since I've posted a chapter, so much had happened in the last two weeks.

We're in the homestretch guys, I hop you enjoy!

* * *

"Loving the dramatic weather change," I remarked aloud, shivering against the wind as I peeled an orange. We were on the approach to Kaine Island and a thunderstorm was rolling in before us.

"Well, you know what they say about April showers," Sly remarked, throwing my jacket to me.

"They cause hypothermia?" Bentley shivered out, already wrapped in his own coat.

The raccoon sighed and shook his head, "It'll warm up when the sun comes up, won't it? Honestly, _pessimists_!"

"_Optimists_," I returned with equal exasperation, tugging my jacket around my shoulders. I bit into a slice the orange I had just peeled and grimaced, "Not ripe enough. Stupid cara cara oranges, they're either really tart or really sweet."

"And yet you're still eating it," Sly said, perching on the railing next to me.

"I don't waste food as long as it's edible." I informed him, tossing a piece of orange peel in his general direction.

He dodged with a grin before letting it fall from his face and speaking in a hushed voice, "You've been acting weird lately."

Crap, and here I'd thought I was doing a really good job of acting normally, "Yeah, I have." I agreed, because lying would send up even more red flags.

He nodded seriously, "Are you going to tell me why willingly or am I going to have to tickle you?"

I snorted with laughter and just barely avoided choking on my orange, "Can I choose secret option 'c', where you just conveniently forget about it?"

"Sorry, that's not a real option," he gave a slight smile.

Ah well, worth a shot, "In that case, what about secret option 'd', where we talk about it when we're safely back at home and not about to embark on the biggest heist of the century?"

He thought about it, "Alright, so long as you don't run off the day we get back to hide at Ahanu and Ritsuka's house for a month and hope I forget." He held out a hand.

I grimaced. He knew me too well. Ah, well, there was always Millie's house. I took his hand, "Deal."

His grin widened and eyes narrowed as his grip on my hand tightened, "I'll find you wherever you go, you know."

I leaned in to meet his advance, "I would love to see you try."

Sly was outright beaming when he let go of my hand and swiped a slice of my orange. He bit into it and coughed, "How are you still eating that?"

I laughed at his expression, "I told you, I don't waste food."

"I'm sure you feel better about yourself morally, but I'm going to go get a cookie."

"Bring me one!"

* * *

Two hours later, I was the only one left on the boat, the others had taken up positions around the perimeter of the island as dictated by The Plan. My job was to monitor everyone's status and offer assistance as needed. Or, as I put it 'sit on the boat and be very quiet, pretending I don't exist until something inevitably goes wrong and I swoop in and save the day, subsequently getting a statue commissioned in my honor'. When I put it like that, Bentley just kind of grunted at me.

"_… we're running five by five here, make sure everyone's in sync._"

"I hear that. Artillery, sure you can make that shot?"

"**_I endeavor not to miss._**"

"Excellent. Radio Control?"

"**In position.**"

"Recovery Team?"

"**I'm pumped!**"

"Submersibles?"

"**_Show time, baby!_**"

"Telekinetics?"

"Ready when you are."

"Auxiliary Support?"

"Let's do this thing."

"Alright, it's the crime of the century and the ball's in motion!"

We'd drilled this so many time that it was weird to see it actually playing out. Sly had gone in via the least guarded point, a small dock, and taken out the three guards stationed there. He continued by going over the lowest point in the old wall.

"Agent Heartthrob, get in position for a 'Yank 86'."

"**I've got a visual**."

Bentley had spotted the three guards on platforms over the thin ledge Sly had to traverse to get into the entrance under the main wall. When the raccoon reached it, he halted, remaining silent.

"The ball has stopped rolling, we've got an obstruction.."

"**I'm on it.**" The familiar RC chopper, modified on the trip here to fly nearly completely silently and masked by the rain, hovered over the guards before lurching forward and hooking the first, "**First is away… Second guy is pulled… Third's skyward, roll on ball, over.**"

Sly did hurry onward; we had a very small window of time from the beginning of the job to the end. Dr. M was paranoid, he'd be checking for discrepancies anywhere… like the radio tower the Guru had just knocked over to give Sly a bridge.

The thief reached the entrance point we'd all studied over and over again on the blueprints, it seemed like a ventilation fan of some kind. "_Ball requesting door via Agent Monarch, over._"

"**_Launching… stand clear_**."

A rocket, almost invisible but extremely potent, arced from the sky down into the vent fan. When the dust cleared, the wooden frame had caved in, providing Sly with an entrance.

"I've got visual confirmation on the door. Nice shooting, over."

I watched as Sly dropped into the overlarge tunnel and broke his way through roots that had grown through the walls to get into Dr. M's lab.

"Be advised, bally is nearing the lab. Agent Deep-Six, you ready?"

"**_Speargun loaded._**"

My eyes were glued to Sly's screen now and I watched as he carefully walked a set of pipes and was then blocked by two force fields.

"Agent Deep-Six, deploy."

I'm not quite sure what Dimitri did with his speargun, to be perfectly honest, but it got the force fields down.

"Strong work, Agent Deep-Six."

"**_Every time._**"

Sly made his way across the pipes to jump on top of the elevator (the _glass_ elevator, I spent most of the next minute praying that Dr. M wouldn't look up) and rode it up with Dr. M and one of his guards. I listened in on their conversation. It lasted less than two minutes and ended with the guard dead on the floor of the elevator. I hadn't really known or cared much about Dr. M before, but now I knew that he was one of those people who needed to be hugged. Around the neck. With a rope.

"The Cooper Vault is just across these wires. I'm en route to your position for the loot haul."

But a snag was inevitable. Apparently, Dr. M had just installed a new security system. Sly set it off, but he had fortunately overheard the code to shut it off while listening in on Dr. M and the now-deceased guard. He entered it quickly and hurried over to the Cooper Vault door as drills positioned around it moved away.

The circular door was pristine, free of even a scratch from the multitude of drills, and undoubtedly explosives, that Dr. M had used to try and get it open. I couldn't tell what sort of metal it was made of, but whatever it was, it was impressive.

Sly paused for a heartbeat. I remembered what he'd said to me, when he was talking about what might be inside the Cooper Vault, all of his ancestors' accomplishments.

_'Would I measure up? Would my father be proud of me… or ashamed?'_

I was sure he'd be proud. He wasn't as convinced. I then pointed out that he beat Clockwerk twice, so who cared if he didn't have as much loot. That seemed to make him feel a bit better, but I knew he was still nervous.

He stepped forward, slipping his cane into the etching and turning it. He pulled it out and the door opened. For just a moment, light spilled out.

Then a rocket, an unfamiliar one, crashed into the door, knocking it back into position. I watched Sly's camera, already on my feet, as it whipped around to reveal Dr. M hovering nearby in a jetpack.

"_Cooper! … No… you must be _Sly_ Cooper, the new keeper of the cane. Oh, how I've longed for this…_"

"_This island belongs to the Cooper family._" Sly said with a lot more authority than he must have been feeling, "_You're trespassing._"

"_No, my naïve boy, _you're_ trespassing. I've got the deed to this island. This fortress is mine, everything here is _mine_… Which now includes the key to the vault. Hand over the cane!_"

"_Sorry pal, family heirloom. Buy a knock-off at the gift shop._"

One of Bentley's darts knocked Dr. M away from the platform where Sly stood. "Quick, let's hurry and regroup with the others, follow me!" Bentley hurried back toward the elevator with Sly, "Agent Wild Card, Plan X! Repeat, Plan X!"

That was me and that was the plan we were to use if it became clear that we were discovered and could not access the Cooper Vault at this time. It wasn't necessarily a retreat as we weren't leaving, we were just pulling away to a safe distance to make another plan. Plan Z was full-out retreat and that was only to be used if we lost a member.

I threw on my windbreaker, put in my earbud, stashed my binocucom and my baton on my belt, and dashed out onto the deck. The rest of the team was heading my way, I could see Penelope already, she hadn't been too far away.

We were supposed to get the boat ready to sail, but we didn't even had time to get started before we saw something horrifying.

"What is that thing?" Penelope cried as I helped her over the railing.

It was some sort of… I don't want to say hybrid, just on principal, but it looked like a child had lobotomized a mole, lopped off its arms and replaced them with that of a lion, and replaced its torso and legs with different animals that I couldn't even begin to tell apart, then fed the abomination a healthy mixture of growth formulas until it was almost as large as our boat.

It dropped down by where Sly and Bentley were meant to emerge, and the panic just had time to get its claws into my chest when it reared up with something green in its grasp.

"Bentley!"

I had to bodily haul Penelope back when she tried to run for the railing of the boat. "You stay here, try and drop bombs on it with Bentley's RC chopper, I'll go help the guys!" I wasn't that sure that I could be of much help, but I would be more useful with Sly than I would be at the boat.

I leapt over the railing, jarring my knees when I landed heavily, but sprinting towards where I could see the monster taking swipes at Sly, who was desperately trying to help Bentley.

The raccoon threw his cane and it lodged in the creature's teeth. As if that wasn't enough, the creature shook its head and sent Sly's cane flying. Now, though, Sly had its attention.

I was still quite a ways away when it dropped Bentley and swept Sly up in a massive clawed hand. I'd have screamed if I had the breath, but I was still trying desperately to get close enough to help, putting on another burst of speed when I saw its thumb, attached to a claw about the size of Murray's torso, start to come down toward Sly's head. He had his arms up, holding it back, but that could only last so long, he was already gasping for air.

"Sly! Hang on!" Could he even hear me? "SLY!"

I was nearly there now. I could see Sly clearly, looking down at me. His expression wasn't what I would expect from someone slowly being crushed to death and I could not read it at all. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but gasped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw and locking his elbows as the claw got closer to his head.

Dr. M was in a harness attached to the creature, I could only guess he was the one controlling it. I whipped out my baton, I'd pry him from the harness if I had to.

"Attack!"

I was tackled from the left, knocked out of the line of fire as a shock pistol bolt slammed into the creature's chest. I followed its trail, looking to a barge out on the water where Carmelita stood, shock pistol smoking, and sending a dozen ape mercenaries to engage the creature.

"Let us take care of things now, Jenks."

I looked over my shoulder at the person who still had a hold of me, "Kristian?!" He reached into his coat and pulled out a pistol of his own, aiming it not at the creature, but at Dr. M. He emptied a clip before my brain caught up with me and I started to try to get out of his grasp, "Let me go, I need to help!"

"Not with all the gunfire in the air you don't." He somehow managed to insert a new clip without loosening his grip in the slightest and leveled it again at the monster, who was currently preoccupied with Carmelita.

I was just short of sinking my teeth into Kristian's arm when a well-placed shot caused the creature to drop Sly and turn its attention completely to Carmelita , leaping over to the large stone outcropping where she stood.

My eyes were on the raccoon laying face down and unmoving on the ground. "Sly!"

Kristian swore when he saw the creature's new target, "Fox." He finally set me down and we ran off in opposite directions.

It took me four seconds and an eternity to reach the limp raccoon. I skidded to a stop next to him, dropping to my knees.

"Sly! He's over here!" Bentley had brought the boat around and now launched his wheelchair over to land next to me, "… He's still breathing?! … He's alive! Hold on, pal, you're going to be okay. We'll take you back to the ship and patch you up. Murray, Panda King, go get the stretcher from the ship! Penelope and Kaia, help me get him on his back so he can breathe more easily. Be carefully, we don't know what that creature might have done to his spine…"

* * *

We managed to get Sly into the ship and below deck. We would have put him in the captain's quarters, but there were many windows in there and we didn't want to lightning to disturb him. Instead, we headed downstairs, to where the infirmary, unused by us until now, was.

With the help of Murray, Bentley and I transferred Sly onto the small bed built into the wall. I stood by, clutching Sly's hat as Bentley checked him for broken bones and other serious injuries.

Finally, the turtle sat back, running a hand over his eyes, "He's suffered a major concussion, but he'll be fine. He doesn't even have any broken ribs, if you can believe that. He'll feel like he got hit by a truck for a few weeks, but he'll live."

I let out a sigh and stopped wringing the limp piece of cloth in my hands. "Guess that good luck finally caught up with him."

Bentley nodded, "It's about time. I'm going up on deck to talk to the rest of the gang and figure out how to get Sly's cane back. Will you stay down here and watch over him?"

"Of course," I said, already pulling a chair over to the bed.

"Thanks. Let me know if anything changes and check him for a fever every fifteen minutes or so, that's the last thing he needs."

I sighed and sat down heavily as he went up. "Well," I said aloud, "That went well."

Sly looked exactly like someone who'd just had a brush with death. His hair was plastered to his head with rain and sweat, his mouth was slightly open, like he was gasping for air even in his unconscious state.

I remembered back to when he found me in that fireworks stand in Venice with a not dissimilar injury and reached out, running my fingers through his hair. It had made me feel better then; maybe it would help him now.

* * *

"How's it going up there?" I asked when Bentley came down about a half hour later.

"The Guru managed to convince some sharks to attack the buoy where the cane was magnetized. Unfortunately, it blew up and the cane is now in the ocean. I'm having Penelope prep Dimitri to head down and retrieve it," He wheeled over next to me, "How is he?"

I ran a hand through my hair, "Well, he doesn't have a fever as of yet. He seemed to have, I don't know, a bad dream or something earlier, but he calmed down after a few minutes." I watched as he checked for a fever himself, "Bentley, what they say about people with concussions falling into comas if they fall asleep…"

He sighed, obviously having already considered the question, "I know. But I don't think it'll happen to Sly, he's too determined."

I thought that over. It was true that the state of someone's mind could have a lot to do with their physical health. Happy people lived longer, and people who had no will to live died more easily. But determination keeping Sly from a coma?

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Bentley took off his glasses and cleaned them as he thought, "Well, you could try talking to him. He talked to you while you were under that trance and you woke up sooner than you were supposed to."

I sat straight up, "Really?"

"Yeah, whenever he wasn't in the middle of a job or asleep, he was in there talking to you. I think he was telling you stories or something." He put his glasses back on. "It's worth a shot anyway, right?"

"Yeah…" I said quietly as he headed back above deck, looking over at the bedridden thief. He'd really spent all that time talking to me? I wished I could remember what he said.

So I talked to him. I didn't really have any cool stories to tell him, so I just talked about anything I could think of. I told him about my friends, about how Roger was a foster kid, how Kurt looked like an emo kid but really wasn't, and how Millie was well on her way to being a crazy cat lady. I talked about school, about the teachers I hated and the ones I liked. I told him about my family, how my parents split up when I was six, how I'd wanted to stay with my dad because his birthday was the next week and I'd already bought his present, how I really hadn't understood what was going on, and how I hadn't seen my mother since I was nine or even talked to her since I was fourteen.

I was just trying to think of what to tell him next and nearly fell out of my chair when his eyes opened. "Sly?"

At first I thought he didn't hear me. His eyes took way too long to focus on the beams above his head, but then he turned and looked at me, "… Kaia?"

I stood up, "Sly, how are you feeling?"

"I-" He shifted and winced, "I feel like I went a few rounds against Muggshot. Unarmed."

"Careful," I warned as he started to sit up, "You took a really bad hit to the head."

"Yeah," he grimaced, "I feel that."

"I'll go see if I can find some painkillers," I turned to go, but he caught my wrist.

"… Wait."

I looked back to him to see the weirdest expression on his face, "Yeah? …Sly? … Sly, what are you doing?"

* * *

Sly pressed a hand to his head, wincing. Nothing was broken, but it sure felt as if someone had picked him up by the feet and swung him headfirst through a brick wall.

Still, the air coming off the waves and the cold rain felt good.

"Sly, you're up!"

He looked over at Penelope and tried to look as uninjured as possible. Unfortunately, Bentley was standing right next to her.

"He should be back in bed after the thrashing he took. Another blow to the head and your brain could snap!" Bentley scolded, before peering around Sly, "Where's Kaia?"

Sly tried for a natural 'nothing-to-see-here' smile, "Quit your worrying, I feel fine. Did Dimitri find my cane?"

"No, Dr. M managed to get away with it." Penelope said gently.

Sly frowned, "Then… we gotta go."

"You're going nowhere, pal. Any attempt on Dr. M or the Cooper Vault will be impossible with these radar towers linked to the missile turrets… wait a second. Penelope, have you completed that work we talked about on your RC car?"

"Yeah…? Oh, I see where you're going! That'll work! Smash the drones, siphon their power and fry the tower's matrix!"

"Perfect, let's get your car onto a drone patrol pipe."

"Not to be too obvious in exposing my ignorance," Sly broke in, "But what in the world are you two talking about?"

"Explaining it would include a lot of multisyllabic words." Penelope said with a small grin, "I could just show you."

"Bring on the demo."

"Panda King," she called over to the fireworks artist, "Can you launch my RC car onto to that pipe?"

"Ha! With the fireworks it will fly, as the bird." He quickly hurried over to the car and rigged it with fireworks, launching it into the air, "Fly, bird, fly!"

As soon as the car reached its destination, Bentley turned to Penelope, "Alright, my sweet princess of electronic dominance, time to smash things up."

"You sure know how to sweet talk a girl, Bentley." Penelope's eyes were glued to her monitor, "Once I get enough power, we can send my car through the tower's satellite dish, causing an overload."

"You know, that actually makes sense." Sly said, wincing as a particularly bright bolt of lightning arced across the sky.

Bentley turned to his friend and leveled a flat, stern look at him, "You really should still be in bed. And where is Kaia?"

"She's…" Sly suddenly took great interest in the sails overhead, "She's asleep."

"Of her own free will?"

"Well, that depends on your definition of 'free will'."

The turtle let out a heavy breath, "She's going to murder you."

"Not in the next few minutes," the raccoon grinned.

* * *

That's all for now, folks! Yes, I know I'm evil and no, I'm not telling you what happened, you're not supposed to know yet. Hope you enjoyed!


	20. The One With The Flying Van

Hey guys! Man, I almost didn't even remember to update today. I've been crazy busy now that the semester is winding down. So is this story, for that matter! Only one more chapter left, then the epilogue!

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Ugh… I didn't want to get up. I was so very tired, all of my limbs felt as though they weighed an even ton.

But… something was wrong. I wasn't sure what exactly it was, but something was nagging at the back of my brain… And why… why was my pillow wet? I felt my nose wrinkle. Why did it smell like rainwater?

… Oh.

I was half off the bed and onto my feet when I was jerked back by something attached to my wrist. I glared at the metal. "Seriously? Where did he even get handcuffs?"

I reached into my back pocket with my free hand. No lock-picks. Of course. There they were, on that nail sticking out of the wall, _just_ out of reach. Jerk.

Even so, for once I was one step ahead. I tilted my head so my short braid fell over my shoulder and grabbed the ponytail holder at the end with my left hand. I'd taken to hooking two small picks in the elastic after China. This was the first time they had ever been of any use, but I was thankful for them.

Handcuffs are stupidly easy to pick, the locking mechanism is as basic as can be. I could have done it with a bobby pin or paperclip even if I didn't have lock picks. Then again, I didn't have bobby pins either…

I'd gotten my wrist free and was making for above deck when I heard the sound of a very familiar propeller.

I threw the hatch open and leapt onto the deck just as soon as the biplane soared overhead. I pounded on the railing with both my fists, "Dangit!" I then turned to Bentley, who was doing his very best to look innocent, and Penelope, who was deliberately interested in her RC car. "What is he doing?"

"He's taking out the turrets so we can have air superiority." Bentley held up a hand when I opened my mouth to start yelling. "I know, he should be laying down, but you try telling him he can't fight this battle for his family's legacy."

I reached up to my ear and growled, "Give me your earbud, he took mine."

* * *

_"I'm going to skin you and turn your fur into a coat._"

"That's been illegal for over a millennia." Sly banked to the left to avoid a duet of missiles, then to the right to take out the targeting system of the launcher that had just shot at him. "By the way, that was fast."

"_I had lock picks in my braid. What were you thinking?_"

"That I had to get my cane and that, unlike Bentley who pretty much just lets me do whatever when I'm sick or injured until I pass out, you'd drug me, tie me to the bed, and sit on me."

"_And that if that failed, maybe I'd try to help? You need a tail gunner up there, they're launching fighters!_"

"Your canon won't work against those fighters' force fields. Fortunately, I've installed a missile launcher that should take their shields down long enough for you to use your canon to gun them down."

"_What I wouldn't give for a sniper rifle right now…_"

Sly figured that if one had to fly over an island filled to the brim with things that wanted to kill you in an open-air biplane while severely concussed, the best way to do that would be to have Bentley and Kaia in your ear.

"Oh boy, here comes the big guns. And by guns I mean 'guns' I mean a flying, giant, whale-dragonfly thing covered in robotic junk! Wait, Dr. M is plugged into that monstrosity!"

"_I guess that lab was for his weird affinity for creating patch-work creatures._"

"Excellent," Sly said, turning his plane toward the creature, "We can settle this now."

"_Oh yes, let's just take on the giant flying mutant with no back-up. It's a foolproof plan! Especially now that it's launching seekers at you!_"

"Use your missiles to take out the seekers, save your canon rounds for Dr. M, they'll work just fine against him!"

About a hundred seekers, an empty ammo bank, and fifty bad taunts from Dr. M later, Sly had had enough. "This isn't working, Bentley. He is _literally_ laughing at us."

"Just give me time. I- I'll think of something!"

"There's no time." Sly unbuckled his harness, "I'm settling this now, face to face."

"Paragliding over to that creature?! You're out of your mind!"

Sly jumped.

* * *

"Sly, you _idiot!_" I screamed into my mic as I watched the biplane plummet away from the bobbing speck of blue in the sky. In direct defiance of the rain, the lightning, and the wind, the paraglider gracefully directed itself to land atop the whale-fly.

A voice came from Sly's binocucom, _"Headstrong, just like your father._"

"_You don't know anything about me or my father!_"

"_Really? Who let you in on the secret of this place, eh? Was it my old pal McSweeny, perhaps?_"

"_McSweeny works for you? This was all a setup to get the cane!_"

"_No, m'boy, once upon a time he and I worked _together_… For your dear old dad._"

"_My father wouldn't have run with someone who'd try to steal from the Cooper Vault, let alone attempt to kill his son!_"

"_Time does strange things to people… Just look at the _real_ leader of your gang – Bentley!_"

"Wow," I covered my mic, turning to Bentley, who looked a little weirded out at having been brought up. "This guy really know how to push Sly's buttons. Step one, insult his dad, step two, try to demean his bond with his friends."

"_Whatever! He and I are friends- equals!_"

"_Then why is it called the 'Cooper Gang', you self-centered ego-maniac?!_"

"_That's enough!_"

From down on the boat, we could do nothing as we watched Sly charge the baboon. There was a brief struggle before Sly retrieved his cane and Dr. M leapt off the whale-fly, a parachute catching him before he could fall to his death.

"_Time to meet the past…_"

When Sly jumped to paraglide over to Cooper Vault, I turned to look over at Bentley. He looked both contemplative and like he'd been punched in the stomach. What Dr. M said must have really gotten to him. I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of 'if you take that psychopath seriously, I'm going to beat you over the head with your own laptop', but Sly came on over the binocucom.

"_Bentley… you there?_"

After a heartbeat, the turtle replied, "Yeah, pal?"

"_I'm about to head inside the Vault and… I want you and Murray and Kaia to come with me._" I almost fell off the boat. "_We're a team, a family… we should do this together._"

Him asking Bentley and Murray, I could understand, but me too? I couldn't even pin down what I was feeling. I think it was happy tears.

"Okay, be right up… partner." Bentley said with a small smile. He and I headed down to where Murray was waiting by the van.

"Nice! We'll have the Panda King give the van a boost!"

It was with great trepidation that I got into the back of the van and latched onto the front seat. I'd seen the Panda King coming out with an armload of fireworks, I didn't want to know what he was going to do with them.

"Stand clear, Sly! We're about to get awesome!"

"The fuse is lit!" The Panda King actually sounded like he was on the verge of clapping his hands together in glee.

"Buckle up, guys… we're about to fly!"

The following five seconds were the most terrifying of my existence up until that point in my life. There was a loud noise and then we were tumbling end over end, completely weightless. I had a flashback to being trapped in a large battery over the Atlantic Ocean and squeezed my eyes shut.

Then we landed, hard.

"Eurgh…" I groaned out.

"We are _never_ doing that again." I heard Bentley say as the van rolled forward.

"Are we alive?" I asked as the van shuddered to a stop.

The back door opened and Sly grinned, even though it looked a little forced, "I hope so, otherwise this would have suddenly gotten very awkward."

I aimed a kick at his face. "You… I'm going to yell at you just as soon as I determine that I'm not going to be sick."

He pulled me out, "In that case, can't let you settle. Come on, we've got a vault to get in to."

The vault door was behind us and a ledge was before us. We jumped down together, onto a circular platform, surrounded by old statues of raccoons.

I gaped, "Whoa…" the cavern was ancient, but didn't appear to have suffered any damage. Dr. M's drills had somehow not harmed the room in any way.

"This place is amazing!"

"Yeah, it's got to be, like, at least a hundred years old!"

"An archeological marvel!"

Sly was inspecting the remains of a bridge, clinging to life by only one, sturdy rope stretched across a gap of indeterminate depth, "Glad guys are impressed… cause it looks like I'll have to go on from here alone."

Bentley nodded seriously, though he looked a little disappointed, "Do it, Sly. This place was built for you… We'll hold down the fort here. But there's no telling what's in there, you should take some backup."

I was surprised when the genius shoved me forward. I was even _more_ surprised when Sly nodded. "Wait, but… I mean, that's not fair if I can go and you two can't. I… I'm not…"

"Kaia." Bentley looked up at me; the torchlight (who lit the torches?) glinted off his glasses so I couldn't see his eyes. "Go watch Sly's back. We'll see you in a few minutes."

"Jinx," Now I turned to look at Sly. His hand was out, his expression unreadable, "I'd be really glad if you came with me."

I could think of nothing to say. That's a lie, I could think of a lot to say, but it was all sarcastic and downplayed the severity of the situation, so I just took his hand.

* * *

"This is going to be the payday of all time! Just think of all the loot piled up back there!"

The loot was the last thing Bentley was thinking about. What Dr. M had said had wormed its way into his brain and refused to leave. The frailty of genius, the need to over-analyze, "Do you ever feel like you're playing second fiddle to Sly? Like he treats us as sidekicks?"

"No way, Sly's cool! We're all in this together."

Bentley almost sighed. He wished he could have Murray's blind faith. All he could think about was how quickly Sly had tried to shut Dr. M up as soon as the monkey had called Bentley the 'real' leader of the Cooper gang.

"Sure, we're all here, but are we equal? Who went into the Vault? Sly." Sure, he'd taken Kaia, but only after Bentley had suggested it. The raccoon had been fully about to venture forth by himself, even though they all knew Kaia could cross the rope as well. And really, Kaia would probably _be_ a Cooper within the next handful of years anyway if her and Sly's behavior lately had been anything to go by.

He didn't want to doubt his friend, he really didn't… but the feeling of being under-appreciated for his talents, the embarrassment he always felt when he couldn't think of something fast enough or lost it under the stress and Sly stepped in and instantly had iron control of everything that was going on… Was Sly really just humoring him, letting him _think_ he had any sort of control beyond handling the tech aspects of the gang?

"Watch out!"

He hadn't seen the half-cobra creature until it was rearing back to strike. He leapt away, it was sheer luck that the ancient raccoon statue was there to land on. Murray was there instantaneously, he was so _fast_ when he was fighting, taking down the cobra in no time flat.

He should have seen this coming! "Dr. M's goons! They must have forced the door after we opened the lock!"

For once in his life, Murray did not seem keen to be distracted. He looked at his friend seriously. "Think of it this way, Bentley. If you were in there and Sly and I were out here, what would he do?"

Bentley felt the shame and he felt it strong. He had to look down for a moment before he could meet Murray's gaze, "Stop these thugs… and protect his friend." Of course Sly would. He'd never let anything happen to them while he could still breathe.

"Right! And that's just what I'm going to do! Keep your head down, stay clear. I'm gonna smash a _lot_ of skulls… and I don't want yours to be one of 'em!"

* * *

"My ancestors sure knew how to decorate... Nothing but big piles of gold!"

"Careful there, Sly, you're salivating." But he was right. We dropped right in and there was water and then – oh hello wealth of the world, I didn't know you were hiding under a teeny tiny island!

The area we'd come into was just a small cave-like room with a sort of display, a hieroglyphic portrait… thing, a pedestal where two small canes sat, a bowl of fire, and a sarcophagus propped up next to the display. The room opened up on a gigantic cavern filled with small mountains of gold, stalactites and stalagmites, and… I laughed and started singing.

"Big, big, big, big, waterrrrr..."

"Seriously?" Sly scowled at the water that filled the cavern, then me, then back at the water, "You can't name a single song by the Beatles, but when it comes to obscure nineties cartoons, you've got a song for every situation?"

I scoffed, "'The Land Before Time' is hardly obscure. It's classic."

"So that's what it is, then? You were raised on cartoons about dinosaurs?"

"Of course not. There was also Star Wars..." I trailed off, remembering sitting in my playroom and watching the originals on VHS.

"Are you _sure_ you don't have a y-chromosome?"

"I will stab you in the eye socket with a fork." I looked over the water. "There's another platform over there… am I going to have to teach you how to swim right here and now?

"I don't think so… see down there?" He pointed under the water, where we could see two barrels attached to a pole of some sort. "Those look like they're meant to come up. Now if we could only figure out how to activate that thing…"

"You think it has something to do with this display?" I asked, crossing over to examine the hieroglyphs.

"Probably," He came to stand next to be and brushed some cobwebs away from the small canes on the pedestal, "This place was started by Slytunkhamen Cooper the second. He built his fortune in the employ of the great pharaohs. That must have been around… thirteen hundred BC."

I jerked my hand back from where I was tracing a design on the sarcophagus, "What, seriously? Some of this stuff is that old?!"

"Come on, you read the Thievius Raccoonus. How many generations did you think it would take to accumulate that many entries?"

"Shut up, I didn't think about it." I leaned nearer the small canes and saw something in the pedestal, "What this?"

It looked a bit like a crack, but it was shaped like a cane. Sly came over, ran a finger over it, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then we heard the barrels rise out of the water.

"I have to say," I looked up at the cavern. From what I could see, there were many other displays like the one we'd just seen, each leading to the next, "Your ancestors were clever."

"Being a thief isn't all acrobatics, you _have_ to be clever." Sly pointed out, then did a front flip onto the nearest barrel. "Of course, the acrobatics don't hurt."

"You're such a show off." Just to make a point, I ignored the barrels entirely and dove into the water. It was a short swim to the next display, so I managed to make it before Sly, who gave me a death glare when I acted like I was about to throw water on him.

We walked over to the next display, which showed us a sword in a stone (I will admit to doing a stint trying to pull it out while screaming 'for CAMELOT!'), some armor, a shield, a lance shaped like a cane, and a portrait of a knight.

"Sir Galleth of the Knights of the Cooper Order," Sly said proudly, finding the trigger for the next set of barrels, "Honorable knight and cunning thief."

"You just have ancestors from all over the place, don't you?"

He grinned, "Oh, we've barely scratched the surface. Come on, I think I know who's next!"

* * *

Sly could hardly see straight, his head was pounding and his muscles ached, but he could hardly remember being happier.

He'd grown up mostly without family. He remembered his father and cherished those memories, but it was hard for him to feel like he was a part of the Cooper Clan, _really_ a part of it, not just dressing up and pretending to be his dad.

But here, standing in this monstrous cavern, surrounded by memorabilia and relics from at least a dozen of his ancestors, he felt the lineage in his _bones_. And he was hoping, hoping so very hard, that one of these displays would house his father's work.

The thing that made it even better was Kaia being with him. It wasn't like her behavior had changed, but every time they came to a new display her eyes would light up and she'd absorb the information he threw out like a sponge.

If he'd gone through the gauntlet alone, he'd probably still have spoken aloud about every ancestor, but knowing there was someone there listening, getting excited with him… It made things more special somehow.

Not to mention it was funny when she asked offhand, after visiting Salim al Kupar Arabia's display, exactly how many legends the Cooper Clan had influenced, then clapped her hands over her ears and started singing very loudly when he tried to tell her about Merlin.

He shook his head in remembrance, setting her down after paragliding them both over to Slaigh MacCooper's display.

It almost made him forget the psychopath overhead, running through ancient tunnels filled with treasure, like chasing all the things that made him, well... him.

* * *

Even 'The Murray' had to admit to some fatigue after the third wave of genetically-engineered goons. Cobra/tiger/frogs and lizard/lobsters seemed to be endlessly pouring down from above.

"It seems like fewer are coming down, they seem to be running out of thugs!" Bentley called from his safe place over on the raccoon statue, "I think these are the last three!"

With that bit of encouragement, Murray grabbed the two cobras facing him by their necks and slammed their heads together. The remaining lizard was knocked into the chasm a moment later.

"Yeah! You're all knocked down and 'The Murray' stands tall! Like a freaking totem pole of strongism!"

Of course, all good things (especially victory) must come to an end. Dr. M leapt down from above, took one look at the room, and turned to the hippo responsible for the damage. "Ah, Murray. You're much stronger than McSweeny ever was."

"That's right, plug-head! I'm like a semi truck with its brakes cut!"

Dr. M's expression was very 'how nice for you' as he checked his nonexistent watch, "I have no time to get in a screaming match with a caveman such as yourself."

"Then lock horns with me," Bentley called the attention in the room to himself, "I think you'll find I'm a better match."

The monkey shook his head, "I have _no_ fight with you, Bentley. You and I are the same."

"I gather you were the technical specialist working with Sly's father?"

That was news to Murray, "You knew Sly's dad?!"

Dr. M didn't even look over at the hippo, "Quiet, caveman, the adults are talking." The look he was giving the turtle was disturbingly paternal, "That's right, Bentley, I know the pain you suffer working under your inferior."

But Bentley nodded slightly, "It's no secret, I'm smarter than the other guys. But there's more to it than that."

"Like what?" Patronization was clear in the doctor's tone.

Bentley's eyes narrowed, "Like _brotherhood_."

Dr. M let out a bark of laughter, "'Brotherhood'? That's just what he wants you to think. It's a tool to keep you in line!"

"No, that's the thing that keeps us _happy_ and _alive_." The turtle was on a roll now, "It's why I'm going to stop you."

"And me too!"

Dr. M sighed in agitation, "Fine, 'Cooper Gang'. I tried."

Murray used Dr. M's determination to ignore him completely to his advantage in that moment.

"Caveman attack!" he roared, charging.

* * *

"And this-"

"Oh, I know this one." I walked up to the display, a bit plain compared to the rest we'd seen, but that was understandable, given who it belonged to. I ran a finger delicately over the jade dragon that rested in front of a suit of Samurai armor, looking up at the simple portrait, "Rioichi Cooper. He invented the Ninja Spire Jump. I remember reading about him in the Thievius Raccoonus, I always thought he was cool."

Sly crossed his arms and gave his typical, teasing grin, "Come on, don't tell me I have to compete with my ancestor for your affections now."

I snorted, ignoring the flip-flop my heart did at the jest; stupid thing, "Please, if you want my affections, try flowers- _legally purchased_, fresh flowers." I knelt to examine a miniature tree next to the display, amazed that it had survived so long. It looked freshly tended.

"I'll keep that in mind," Sly found the etching in the wood of the frame this time. There was a whirr, a series of clicks, then the passage behind us came to life. He laughed, "Oh, Rioichi didn't just want to stop people who were bad at his technique, he wanted to _kill_ them."

I looked past him and groaned at the passageway full of swords, "Well, it's good we got in all that extra practice before China, then."

"I'll go first and let you know how to get through," Sly said, waiting for and leaping when the first sword remerged. I waited as he disappeared around a corner and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard his voice echo back to me, "Okay, jump on the first one when it comes out, but _don't_ go to the next one until the thief-lights for the one you're standing on leave. When they do, jump _immediately_."

"Yessir!" I shouted, to let him know I'd heard him. With my lip between my teeth, I waited for the sword to come up and jumped. It was a harrowing forty-five seconds to the next solid surface and I slipped and almost fell several times.

Sly caught my elbow when I finally reached him, "Well, you survived. Your form still needs work."

"Eye socket. Fork. Stabitty-stab."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, we've got two hooks and a stalactite between us and the next platform."

"That's a stalagmite."

"I thought you failed geology."

"I did. That's a stalagmite." I then caught sight of the next display, "Is that a pirate flag?"

"Well, we'll have to go and see, won't we?"

* * *

It was with relief that Bentley wheeled past Dr. M, planting the last security device on his back just as it activated.

Murray lifted the smaller man and threw him up, where the raccoon statues held him suspended as electricity coursed through him.

It was to the shock of all when, upon landing, Dr. M still managed to get to his feet.

"Gee-argh… well played, Bentley…" He turned and bared vicious looking teeth, "But it was a meaningless gesture! According to the tracking device I placed on Sly's cane, he's just entered the Inner Sanctum. I can use the collected positional data to get through the gauntlet with ease."

Bentley's eyes widened momentarily in shock, then he immediately cursed himself for not realizing sooner. Of course it had been a ploy! Why else would Dr. M have attack Sly in the sky instead of just entering the vault once he had the cane? Only a Cooper could get to the Sanctum!

"That hall's for Coopers only!" He snarled.

There was that paternal look again, "Maybe it's time for men such as you and I to change all that." He ran and, using strength he shouldn't still possess, leapt across the chasm and into the gauntlet.

"He's getting away!" Murray shouted, rapidly looking at the door and back to Bentley. "Whadda we do?"

"I… I'll think of something!" Bentley shouted, clutching his head as though that would make the ideas come faster. "Just give me time!"

"… You know something, Bentley?"

"What?!"

"You think awesome."

Even with the serious situation, Bentley had to smile. "Thanks, pal."

* * *

Alright everyone, we're nearing the end! This is gonna be fun!


	21. The One With The Faberge Egg

Welp, this is it. The last chapter. I can't believe it's almost over... I mean I finished writing this almost a year ago, but it feels like it's been on going as I've shared it with you guys.

I really need to get cracking on the sequel...

* * *

"I don't believe it."

I looked up from my examination of the bottom of my shoes, which I was surprised the propellers we'd just run across hadn't removed. "What is it?"

To me surprise, Sly swallowed heavily and laid a hand on the broken portrait frame he stood in front of. "This is my dad's challenge."

Now I was interested. I'd noticed the displays had been getting more modern, but Sly's dad?

I looked around and smiled, "Your dad sure liked his tech, didn't he?" I went to stand beside Sly and smiled at the broken portrait, "I wish I could have seen this before it was broken, I would have liked to see what he looked like."

"I have the original picture. I'll show you when we get back to Paris." He still sounded far away.

I nudged him with a shoulder and nodded to the lower part of the portrait when he looked down at me, "It's obvious he loved you very much to have made a point to include you in his display. You were so cute as a kid."

"What, just as a kid?"

There we go, he was back. "Yeah, what on Earth happened?"

He nudged me back and almost knocked me over. "So cheeky." He sighed and removed his hand from the portrait.

I looked over at the laptop, loving the Cooper symbol screensaver, then jumped when it changed to text: 'hello, world…'. That wasn't creepy. Not at all. How was it even getting power down here?

Then I spotted the little cane to start the next challenge. It was a key on the keyboard. I glanced at Sly and he nodded, so I pushed it.

To our left, bright orange lasers leapt into existence.

"This must be my father's work," Sly said, looking at the laser that spanned the vast gap in front of us, "How am I supposed to get across here? He made this challenge for a move I've never learned. There's nothing like this in the Thievius Raccoonus." He glanced back over at the portrait, "Come on, Dad. Help me out here."

"Whatever it is, your dad gets a ten out of ten for style." I pointed to the Cooper symbol laser etching on the far wall, "Lookit that!"

He spared a grin over one shoulder, "Glad you're impressed." He looked back at the laser and did a double take, "Wait… those laser beams, a thieving opportunity, you've gotta be kidding me!"

"Wait… what?"

He gestured to the laser, "Don't you see the thief lights?"

I gave the laser a good hard stare. All I succeeded in doing was making my eyes water, "No, I don't think I'm good enough for this move." I shrugged and smiled, "I guess the Inner Sanctum is really just for you."

"Yeah, but…" Then his eyes widened. "The lasers! I get it, I can slide on the laser beams! Dad, you old rascal!"

"Do you guys just get your chuckles out of throwing yourselves at lethal objects for the sole purpose of attempting to defy physics?"

His lips quirked up, then he sobered a bit. "You'll be okay here?"

"Of course. If it's okay, I'd like to take a look at your dad's laptop, it's gotta be here for a reason." I looked over my shoulder at the glass case filled with jewels, "And I think that's a Faberge egg over there. If anything, you should be worried about it." I could just slip it in my pocket, no one would have to know…

Sly smiled, "Thanks for coming with me, Jinx." He approached the laser, then hesitated and looked back at me, "If this goes horribly wrong and I fall into the water please, for the love of all that is good, come after me."

I bit my lip against a laugh and gave a mock-bow, "Always."

Fortunately, it didn't go horribly wrong and he seemed to glide along the lasers in defiance of both gravity and friction. I shook my head and turned back to the little space Connor Cooper had claimed for himself.

* * *

"I can't think of anything!" Bentley wailed, pulling on the straps of his bicycle helmet. Neither he nor Murray, nor any of their allies could get across that rope. Well, he probably could if he used his boosters to their full capacity, but what would he do when inside?! "What are we going to do!"

The hippo looked like he was going to answer, but was interrupted by two soft thumps.

Techno geek and heavy hitter both turned to look straight down the barrel of a shock pistol.

"Where are Cooper and Dr. M?"

_Well,_ Bentley thought to himself, _This could work_.

* * *

It _was_ a Faberge egg and I did try it on for the sake of vanity and a childhood dream that had never quite let go. I wandered over to the briefcases next. They were filled with cash in every denomination imaginable. I wanted to steal them, of course, but they were fairly boring.

Then I found the briefcase sandwiched between the glass display case and the laser machine and became very curious as to why it was so deliberately out of sight.

I slid the silver box out and opened it. It was not filled with money. It was filled with sheets of paper, most white, but some colored, and all bearing drawings.

I selected the first one and lifted it up. In what was undoubtedly a child's hand, it depicted a big and a little raccoon. The big one was lifting the little one up to grab a vase off of a pedestal in what was undoubtedly a museum.

I replaced the paper, closed the briefcase, and slid it back into place. I then went to stand in front of the portrait, mimicking Sly's earlier position. "You really were a good man, weren't you? I wish I'd gotten a chance to know you."

I bowed my head for a moment in respect, then lifted it. Alright then, it was settled. When we got back to Paris, I'd tell Sly I loved him, make him show me the picture of him and his dad, and have him tell me stories about his dad… quite possibly not in the order. There was no telling if he'd ever want to speak to me again after our little chat.

Oi, I was really not looking forward to that…

And yes, it was weird thinking the word 'love' so bluntly. It was thrown around haphazard by anyone and everyone nowadays but, unfortunately, there was no other word for what I was experiencing. And, honestly, I didn't want to be in love with Sly.

I was way, way too scared that he'd react badly to the information and everything I loved about the way we interacted would be reduced to ruins by the crushing awkwardness. If there were any way, any at all, that I could keep the information to myself, just not tell him, carry on as we had for this whole past year, then I would take that in a heartbeat. I had absolutely no need to have my feelings reciprocated.

I knew Sly cared for me, he cared about all of his friends, that would be obvious to anyone who interacted with the guy. But any sort of romance? Yeah, no idea there. Aside from flirting shamelessly, he gave absolutely no clues as to what he felt toward that whole concept. And me? The only relationships I had any intimate knowledge of were my parents' (yeah, and _that_ went so well), and the weird, dysfunctional, hormone-driven things some of my friends had gotten into in high school. I had no desire for anything like that. None at all. I was happy and fine being single. Could continue indefinitely, no problems.

Sure, I loved Sly. I'd admitted that. It had taken me a while, but I did it. But I was already around the guy almost 24/7, that was all I wanted. I just wanted to be around him. I just wanted to laugh and tease and joke and be with him. I didn't want to go make out in a dark corner of the Safehouse or anything ridiculous like that. Frankly, the idea turned my stomach a little. I'd been turned off of the whole concept of that sort of thing in high school, where pretty much everyone with a 'bf'/'gf' spent a large portion of time, _in public_, trying to eat each other's faces. Or maybe wash them with their tongue. Either way, it was gross. And it looked uncomfortable. And horribly awkward.

No, I was perfectly content to continue on in total happiness with the way things were, without trying to deal with the inevitable complications that would arise with any admission of _'feelings'_. The problem was that Sly was not going to let me. He knew me way too well by now to be able to ignore that something was up, and that man was stubborn when it came to knowing what was going on with his friends.

I sighed to myself, idly fingering the jeweled egg at my throat, liking the high, ringing noise it made when it clinked against my pendant. This wasn't going to be fun. This wasn't going to be fun at all. I didn't _want_ things to change, but at this point, it seemed inevitable. And I saw _no_ way they could change for the better.

My head snapped up when I heard the sound of metal grating against metal. It was coming from the platform that had been carved out of a large stalactite.

I ran over to look and saw Dr. M in some horrible metal contraption with far too many legs and was attached to his head. He'd just used it to climb up the dual cables leading to the platform and looked like he was preparing to jump toward the ledge Sly had just traversed, leading to the Inner Sanctum.

My first instinct was to look around and look for something to throw. Then I realized that no way was my arm that good and looked helplessly at the laser that stretched out before me.

"Come on." I hissed, staring at the laser, "Come _on_, Connor Cooper, I want to help your son. Show me, show me how to do that…"

The next three breaths seemed eternal. Dr. M jumped and landed, about to head into the final tunnel; I saw a single white light jump into existence.

I backed up two steps and ran.

I was running on the laser. How in the universe was I doing that? It was hot and had give. I didn't dare stand still or try to slide, I'd fall through. So I ran.

"Hold it!"

Dr. M immediately whipped around. His teeth barred, "You!"

I didn't have time to try to decipher his meaning. I jumped and landed on the metal contraption he had on. If I could just separate him from it, that alone would be progress.

I snapped my baton out, but he batted it away with one of his metallic limbs. The momentum loosened my grip and I was scrabbling to get a hold, accidentally (but satisfactorily) dragging my claws across his face in the process.

Then his elbow connected with the bridge of my nose and there were all sorts of colors and I was going down… down… down…

* * *

Sly slid down one of the many lasers into the Inner Sanctum. He landed on the circular platform and looked around, wanting to take in so much more than he could with just two eyes.

"This is just… overwhelming!" He looked up at one of the vehicles hanging from the ceiling, "Amazing! How'd Thaddius make a flying machine in the eighteen hundreds? I bet this thing still works…"

"Oh, I'm _sure_ it's operational."

Sly turned, crossing his arms and settling in to a patronizing smile, "Dr. M, glad you could see all this. I know you've been looking forward to it."

"Looking forward to all this… and your death!"

The raccoon sighed and shook his head, "Come on. Aren't we supposed to banter a little?"

"I only talk with my equals," Dr. M leapt into the air, his odd contraption keeping him aloft, "And Bentley said 'no'."

Good old Bentley. "Looks like you got a few cuts for your trouble too."

"Mmm?" The doctor reached up and touching the bleeding scratches on his forehead, "No these were a parting gift from your little hybrid friend. She did have spunk didn't she?"

Sly went cold. "What?"

* * *

"Come on, hurry up!" Bentley called over his shoulder as he threw his wheelchair forward with all the strength in his arms.

The turtle was flanked on the left by Inspector Fox and on the right by Kristian. Fortunately, they both carried mega-jump gadgets and could keep up with the booster on his wheelchair.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Carmelita panted out.

"No, I'm leading you away from the fight so that my two best friends can be murdered by a psychopath."

"Shut up, both of you," Kristian barely sounded winded, "Is that Dr. M?"

Bentley followed the cougar's gaze and saw the scientist just reach the platform suspended by rock, "Yes that's him! And he's almost at the Inner Sanctum!"

A white blur came from apparently nowhere, travelling by an avenue of fluorescent orange light. It launched itself at Dr. M.

"Is that-"

A shout, a scuffle, and a horrible crack. And then she was falling.

"KAIA!"

Thirty, forty, fifty feet of freefall before she finally hit the water. There were plenty of bubbles and foam, but no hint of life.

"Carmelita, get after Dr. M." Kristian said, shucking off his pea coat, scarf, and shoes. "I'll be up in a minute."

He dove into the water.

* * *

The door to the Inner Sanctum required blasting open which, given the day she'd had, Carmelita was all too happy to give it.

"… all of you, THIEVES!"

Explosions were just so relaxing. She threw herself through the fire and landed, pistol up and with both Cooper and Dr. M in her sights.

"Hold it right there. _Both_ of you thieves are going to jail!"

Cooper looked awful. His face was tired, he was obviously in pain, but more than that he just seemed, somehow... broken. Even still, he smiled and here came the lilting tone.

"Good to see you."

She couldn't stop the slight smile, "You too."

"Oooh, a love interest!" Dr. M mocked, glancing between them with a most sadistic look on his face, "I might be beaten, but I'll make you suffer!" He turned to face the fox and fired a bolt of energy.

And then Sly was between them, "Not her too!"

The projectile hit and the raccoon went flying into the rafters.

Carmelita saw red and brought up her pistol, "No one hurts my criminal!"

* * *

Ugh… I couldn't breathe.

Why couldn't I breathe? It felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest.

Ow!

No, no an elephant was definitely _standing_ on my chest, possibly jumping up and down in some sort of convoluted, elephantine tribal ritual.

I didn't feel good… and the dancing elephant wasn't helping. Ugh, if it didn't stop I was gonna be-

Oh, yup. I was definitely being sick. Why was I on my back? That wasn't helpful. Oh, on my side now, that's much better. Being sick _and_ coughing up water now, it's Christmas.

"That's it, get it all out."

Great, there was someone _watching_ me be sick, happy day. Thumping me on the back does _not _help me breathe! Oh, that orange was even worse the second time around…

"Can you take care of her? I have to go help Sly."

Bentley?

"Yes, but you and I are going to talk later."

Kristian?

"Absolutely."

I was finally able to drag air into my lungs, just in time to smell burning of the thrusters in Bentley's wheelchair as they engaged. What was going on?

"Jenks, can you hear me?"

Sly… the Cooper Vault… Dr. M… Sly!

I tried to sit up, but my eyes decided no, that wasn't a very good idea, so they decided to give a lightshow instead.

"Careful, that's the oxygen deprivation, take a few deep breaths."

I took one and wheeze out, "Sly and Bentley…"

"Will be fine, Carmelita's up there."

A couple more deep breaths, "I am _filled_ with confidence." My eye finally decided to cooperate and inform me that the multicolored blur filling my vision was, indeed, Inspector Kristian Garter. He was also sopping wet. "Is it raining?"

He stared at me blankly before deciding upon a very sarcastic, "Yes."

My brain finally caught up, "Did I just drown?"

"Very nearly."

Oh, don't faint. Don't faint. Don't think about how one of your worst fears almost came true and... Do. Not. Faint. "Why are the walls shaking?"

"There's a party upstairs." He was apparently liking his whole sarcastic kick. "The caves are collapsing. Can you stand?"

"Collapsing, wha…" I got my knees under me and was working on the feet, "What about the others?"

"They'll be fine." He caught me when I finally got to my feet, made a sort of gurgling noise, and fell over again. "What's wrong with you?"

"I do not know," I hissed, "My feet…" I looked at the bottoms of them. Oh… that wasn't pretty. The laser had apparently been too advanced for me, the bottoms of my shoes were scorched clean off, little bits of melted plastic clung to the soles of my very burned feet.

"No time for this."

And I was suddenly being hauled up and over a very bony shoulder and he jumped… far higher than should be allowed.

I didn't scream as the land flew away from us. I was proud of that.

"Stop clawing my shoulder!"

"How are you defying physics?!" Okay, so I did scream, but not out of fear. Okay, maybe a little bit.

"Stop asking questions and hold on tight."

* * *

Dr. M was on his last legs. It took only a few shock pistol bolts and he was crumpled at the edge of the platform, his machine scattered.

Carmelita jumped up to the rafters and found Sly groaning, with his head in his hands.

"What happened?"

The Inspector was hardly surprised, it looked like he hit his head pretty hard, "Sly?"

"Where are we?" He asked, looking around with foggy eyes, "What is this place?"

"Sly, can you remember anything?" Not remembering head trauma was common, but total amnesia?

His forehead wrinkled in thought, then he winced and grabbed the back of his head. "No… who're you? You look familiar…"

He really couldn't remember her? "I'm Inspector Carmelita Montoya Fox."

"And…" he seemed hesitant about continuing, looking up at her with a blank, vulnerable expression, "Who am I?"

"You…" She should tell him who he was and arrest him. It was the right thing to do; it was what she'd been aiming for for the last four years. But his face… he trusted her completely…

"You're… my partner, Constable Cooper."

"Well, partner, we'd better get out of here." He stood, wincing, and looked up, "The ceiling's gonna go… we haven't got much time."

* * *

Sneaking off a barge filled with a dozen large mercenaries of Interpol affiliation and one cougar with eyes in the back of his head is not an easy thing to do, especially with second degree burns on the bottoms of your feet.

Fortunately, if you're a good swimmer, your chances for success are increased exponentially.

The entire island had collapsed inward. Granted, it was a mountain sticking out of the ocean and practically hollowed out and filled with tons of gold so it wasn't that surprising. What concerned me was that I didn't know if everyone had made it out okay.

So I tied some rags around my feet and slipped off the boat. I made it to the island, despite the freezing cold water, and pulled myself onto the small dock that had been our entry point mere hours before. That was weird, thinking of it like that. It felt like it had been days.

"I wonder if it's possible to make shoes out of ice cream," I mused to myself as I climbed over the rubble. "That would be awesome."

"Kaia!"

"Penelope!" I called, seeing the mouse higher up, by a small cluster of trees. I waved up at her, "Is Sly with you?"

"No, we're still looking for him and Dimitri." She said as I climbed up to her, "We've already found the Panda King and the Guru."

"And who's we?" I asked, stepping into the trees with her.

"Bentley and Murray. Where's that Interpol agent that Bentley was talking about?"

"If we're extremely lucky, he's still on the boat." I pushed a low hanging palm branch out of the way and saw a very familiar hippo, "Murray!"

Getting hugged by Murray is at once kinda nice and also good practice for not breathing. "Good to see you too, pal." I managed to wheeze out.

"Kaia?" Bentley wheeled into view, "I thought you were with Kristian."

"Hopefully he still thinks that too. Where's everyone else?"

"Looking for Sly, the Panda King found Dimitri down by the water." Bentley indicated the vague direction of the reunion with a nod.

"Alright cool, where should I check?"

"First tell me what happened to your shoes."

"Er... funny story." I looked down at the rags, "They... well, they got burned off."

"..." Bentley ran a hand down his face and pointed to a recently overturned palm tree, "Go sit over there."

"Hey, I wanna-"

"Sit. There. Go."

I rolled my eyes before skulking over, "Yes, Mother."

So I sat, tearing the leaves off palm branches and trying to ignore the intense pain from my feet now that I wasn't blocking it out. It didn't take long before the rest of the gang showed up and Bentley sent them searching in a grid-like patter for our AWOL leader.

What we found was not him.

"Over here guys!"

That was Bentley. I got to my feet and hobbled over in the direction of his voice, "Did you find Sly, Bentley?"

"No." He looked at me over his shoulder, "And I think that's what he wants."

A cold finger of dread sank its way into my stomach, "What do you-" Then I saw what was over his shoulder.

Sly's cane was propped up against the side of one of the few bits of the mountain that was still standing. His red leg pouch, which held his lock picks, was dangling off of it and a calling card sat upon it.

"What..." I went over and picked up the cane, the pouch, and the calling card, which was blank, "What is this?"

"I don't know," Bentley said, turning on a flashlight that was attached to his wheelchair and shining it into the hole in the mountain that the cane had been propped next to. "But I think it's the Cooper Clan's fortune."

I went over to stand next to him. His light reflected off of piles and pile of gold, statues, and artwork.

I tried to dredge up some awe, appreciation, or excitement. Anything positive would have been welcome.

Instead, I averted my gaze, went back to my palm tree, sat down, and ran a hand over the nicks in the wood of Sly's cane.

* * *

[[Neassa has gone into hiding. She would like to remind everyone that there will be an epilogue, though.]]


	22. The One With The Epilogue

Imagine my face when I realized I'd forgotten to post the Epilogue. Just take a second and imagine it. If you're not laughing, you're imagining it wrong.

Good for you guys not sending me a billion messages asking where it was, though, four for you!

On with the Epilogue!

* * *

It took several trips to haul the Cooper fortune back home. It was really hard keeping it out from under Interpol's nose, but we managed

Months passed.

Murray went back to Australia with the Guru to finish his Dreamtime training. The Panda King went back to China to be with his daughter. Dimitri... did something.

Bentley and Penelope started construction on a new Cooper Vault. How they hollowed out the necessary underground was a mystery to me, but they recreated the gauntlet according to what Bentley and I could remember of it and set up displays for each ancestor with what we had been able to excavate.

I kept Sly's cane, leg pouch, and Connor Cooper's laptop, which had miraculously survived the cave-in. It had been a nightmare to find a charger for it (how had it stayed underground for thirteen years without a charger and still been on?), but it then sat in the corner of my room, fully charged but unopened. I just couldn't bring myself to explore it. Truthfully, I should have given it to Bentley, but I didn't want to and I was feeling selfish until the point where it would have made matters worse to turn it over.

I stayed at the Safehouse in Paris. I found it depressing that the once lively place was now empty and dead-silent, as Bentley spent most of his time with Penelope, so I spent most of my time travelling.

I didn't touch my cut from the Cooper Vault and I didn't have to- I had my share of the money from Tsao's treasury in a bank account that Bentley had set up for me while I'd been out of commission. I'd initially tried to refuse accepting anything from the Vault at all, but then I got a text from Bentley one day telling me he'd transferred my cut into my account (which he could apparently do without my consent because he set it up and knew its details). I shook my head, rolled my eyes, moved it to savings, and didn't look at it again.

I went to see my dad, my first time seeing him since his one awkward visit to the institution over New Year's. We were able to speak more amicably this time, since I caught him by surprise on his day off and could therefore be sure he wasn't wearing a wire.

We went to a diner, got dinner and talked, just talked. It was nice, seeing him again. I'd missed having him around, though I was pretty used to it by the time I joined the gang.

It was after nearly three hours of blissfully normal conversation that he asked me a question.

"Why did you stay with the Cooper gang?"

I took my time thinking that one over, stirring my milkshake with a french fry as I thought. He deserved a real answer, just saying that I was happy with them wasn't enough, he had to really know why I was so much happier there than at home, being legal.

"Imagine," I started, folding my hands and looking down at my intertwined fingers, "That every single day when you woke up, you could know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you could walk out your bedroom door and see someone who would smile and say 'good morning' and mean it. That every time you wanted to be around people, there was someone who wanted to be with you too and when you wanted to be alone, they'd be disappointed. Imagine just knowing- no, not knowing, _feeling_- imagine feeling every second of every day, feeling that you are wanted, that you are valued."

I didn't mention the appeal stealing from criminals held for two reasons; first, because he'd debate the ethics of that with me until the dead woke up for tea and biscuits, and second, I really did just stay because I was so honestly happy with the gang and I didn't feel like I needed another reason.

He nodded, seeming satisfied that it wasn't for the money or because my hormones were especially fond of a particular member, and asked if I was going to finish my fries.

I visited Roger, Millie, and Kurt. The latter two pestered me for stories until my ears nearly started bleeding and Roger asked quite seriously if there was anyone he needed to dispose of. It was a fun week.

I didn't want to go back to the empty Safehouse, so I went to Australia to visit Murray and the Guru. Murray was nearly finished with his training and shared his hopes to break into the racing circuit with the newly-restored team van. I even let the Guru teach me how to meditate.

I went to China to visit the Panda King, an idea that seemed good in theory, but very, very bad when I was confronted with the reality of actually standing on his front porch with a hand poised to knock and the barrel of a fireworks launcher in my face. Thankfully, Jing King and I got on like a house on fire, so it was a fun stay and I made plans to return in a few months.

I'd just barely dragged myself into The Safehouse, dropped my bags, and flopped onto my bed when a knock came at my door.

It was Bentley.

"I found him."

* * *

Bentley regretted telling Kaia, he really did, but he had to. If she found out he knew where Sly was and didn't tell her, she'd never have spoken to him again.

They were on the rooftop opposite the formal party, where Interpol officers had to go to rub elbows with foreign officials.

He'd told her about the official report: Sly had amnesia and, due to Carmelita pulling all the right strings and using up all the favors she'd gathered in her Interpol career, had become her partner, Constable Cooper. Her face had remained carefully blank during the tale and for once he couldn't tell what was on her mind.

He had the best vantage point, so he was using his binocucom to spy on the two who stood on the balcony, talking about something (he hadn't had time to set up any audio surveillance), and Kaia was hiding behind a nearby chimney (her white fur was like a beacon in the moonlight) and watching from the link he'd made to her binocucom.

Sly looked good, a lot better than when the turtle had seen him last. He looked healthy, no lingering signs of his head injury, and was wearing a tuxedo, his hair tamed for once and slicked away from his face. Kaia noticed too, Bentley could tell by the way she shifted nervously.

Then the raccoon turned, looked right at the binocucom, and deliberately winked.

By the time Bentley looked up from his screen, Kaia was gone.

* * *

"Kaia, you have to come out sometime."

It had been two weeks. At first, Bentley had thought it best to leave the hybrid alone, but after a week he'd gotten worried and travelled back to Paris to see how she was doing. She'd locked herself in a room and refused to come out.

It was now a week later. "No, I'm watching Doctor Who and eating chocolate. Why would I ever want to leave?"

He'd come back that particular day with reinforcements. "If you don't open the door, you're going to have to pay for the damages."

"I don't know what you mean and I don't care."

"I'm taking it out of your account!" When no response was forthcoming besides the increase in volume of the television; Bentley sighed, rubbed his forehead, and turned to his companion. "Alright, I tried. It's up to you now, hopefully you'll have more luck."

Ahanu grinned and kicked the door in.

* * *

"You're going to love Sweden." The fox insisted, strolling out the front door and making for the car he'd spent the last half hour loading with Kaia's things.

"Put me down! Help! Kidnap!"

"You can take online classes or I can teach you Swedish and you can enroll in Stockholm University." Ahanu shifted his shoulder against the struggling hybrid, "Have you seen their campus? It's gorgeous!"

"I don't care!" Kaia's fists beat against the fox's back, "Put me down! Ritsuka is going to kill you!"

"Oh, Ritsuka knows you're coming. It took three days of groveling to get him to agree to it, but he knows. Watch your head," The translator literally tossed her in the back seat of his car and slammed the door.

"Thanks for this," Bentley said, hopping down the stairs in his chair, "I wasn't quite sure what to do about her."

Ahanu shrugged, "Don't worry about it, I would have come sooner if I'd known what was going on." There was a thud from behind him as the hybrid threw herself against the window. "Child safety locks engaged and bulletproof windows. She's not getting out of there any time soon."

"They really think you need bulletproof windows?"

The fox shrugged again, "Eh, they can be paranoid, but I won't say 'no' to extra security, especially if they're paying for it."

"Understandable. Let me know if you need anything and keep me updated."

Ahanu flashed him a grin and a thumbs-up, making for the driver's side door, "You got it. The trick will probably be to keep her busy. If you see Sly, smack him upside the head for me."

"Oh, I will."

Bentley watched as they drove away, Kaia hurling silent abuse and Ahanu laughing it off. It was for the best, he couldn't just leave her in The Safehouse and let her stagnate all alone. Ahanu and Ritsuka would keep her on her toes and hopefully make her laugh once in a while.

He turned and looked up at The Safehouse. There had been some really good times here. He wasn't naive enough to think that he'd never be visiting it again, but he was pretty sure it would take a while.

He gave it an optimistic year before either Sly couldn't stand having to abide by the rules or Carmelita couldn't stand that she'd let a criminal get off virtually scot-free.

It was only a matter of time before things would change again, and he was looking forward to it. He loved living with Penelope, he was over the moon for her; but he already missed the intellectual challenge of strategizing and he definitely missed being around all of his friends. He hoped he'd get to see them all together again soon, hopefully without a certain hybrid attempting to remove body parts from a certain raccoon.

Until then, he turned to the Safehouse door, pulled it shut, and locked it.

* * *

And that's all she wrote, folks! Well, for the time being. Before you ask, _yes_ I'm going to write a story for Sly 4. I have, in fact, already started. I won't start putting it on here until I'm finished with it, though, so it might be a while.

Check out the blog for chapter commentaries and updates on where I am writing the next story. I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you again soon!


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